


Letters from a Champion

by xCastielsGirlx



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Twins, Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Canonical Character Death, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Garrett also has a cat, Garrett has a farm, Happy Ending, Hawke Family Feels, Humor, Letters, M/M, Multi, Mute!Warden, Panic Attacks, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Warden Bethany Hawke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 12:40:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5048947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xCastielsGirlx/pseuds/xCastielsGirlx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrett Hawke is left behind in Ferelden after becoming separated from his twin, Marian, at Ostagar. After helping the Hero of Ferelden defeat the Blight, he leaves to rebuild Lothering, keeping correspondance with Marian throughout her time in Kirkwall.</p><p>However, after the news of the Chantry's destruction spreads, she turns up with her rag-tag crew of friends at his front door, looking worse for wear.</p><p>As Garrett helps Anders with the Mage Rebellion, the two become close. Marian is called to help the Inquisition, and to help save the world.</p><p>HAPPY ENDINGS FOR EVERYONE LIKE LITERALLY NO-ONE IS GOING TO DIE IN THIS.</p><p>Extra tags will be added with later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off my post from Tumblr (I'm tevvintersoldier if anyone wants to hmu) and it's going to be a pretty long fic If I'm honest. I hope you like it!

When the Blight came to Ferelden, the Hawke family had no choice but to run. Three of the Hawke siblings had been at Ostagar, but only two made it back to Lothering to collect Bethany and their mother. Ever hopeful, however, Leandra left a letter on their kitchen table should her son return home. The family mourned what they thought was the loss of their kin on the trail to Kirkwall.

Garrett Hawke, on the other hand, was extremely lost in the Korcari Wilds- he had been on patrol with Fergus Cousland from Highever during the siege on Ostagar, and had learned of the betrayal only when they had attempted to return to find the place overrun with Darkspawn. Garrett’s heart skipped into his throat at the thought his twin and little brother could have been caught in the battle. He collapsed to his knees in the dirt just on the outskirts when a hand settled on his shoulder.

“Go back to Lothering, Hawke,” Fergus instructed, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Garrett nodded and stood, feeling magic thrum through his veins. He silenced it however, and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, swinging it out and planting it into the ground in front of him. Turning away was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but it was over now- and he’d have to be the one to tell mother and Bethany how he’d failed them.

Garrett arrived at Lothering, only to be greeted with bandits trying to scam him out of his money. He sighed roughly, dirty and travel-worn; not in the mood for any of their games.

“Look, I’ve just come from Ostagar and I’m exhausted- you either let me into my village or I’ll run you through with my daggers. Do you understand?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. The leader chuckled weakly.

“Alright, alright! Don’t get your smallclothes in a twist!” Garrett nodded at them as he passed and averted his eyes from the Templars in the area. Where had all their soldiers gone? Surely they weren’t all at Ostagar? Refugees and the sick lined the fields that were once bountiful and full of plants, and Garrett couldn’t help but pity them. As he made his way to his family’s farm, the empty pit in his stomach grew. Surely Bethany would be out helping the sick? Why wasn’t his mother outside with the washing deterring thieves? His questions were answered when he entered the house and spotted a piece of parchment on the table.

_My Darling Son,_

_If you are reading this, then I thank the Maker for keeping you safe. Marian and Carver arrived not long ago with the news of Loghain’s betrayal. I can hardly believe it! We are travelling north; although I fear that it may also be a lost cause. Perhaps I can convince them to go to Kirkwall. We have family there, and an estate. Of course it would not be ideal for Bethany, but Templars are preferable to Darkspawn after all. It would be an ease on my mind if you could try and join us, and if not- well, stay safe darling._

_All my love,_  
Mother  
xx

Garrett let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. He trusted his siblings to keep his mother safe on the way to the docks to Kirkwall. He would have chosen to stay in Lothering, had it not been for the approaching Darkspawn horde. Instead, he travelled north to Denerim. For a while he worked in the Pearl, sharpening his skills with a dagger with a pirate named Isabela- and while she was beautiful, she wasn’t quite to his tastes. It was there that he met the last two Grey Wardens and their companions. With nothing better to do, Garrett offered his assistance to them.

Being part of the Wardens’ party was both an exciting and terrifying thrill for Garrett. There was always the fear that they would discover his magic, even though there were three mages in the party- the leader being one herself. So Garrett stuck to the shadows, only using his magic when no-one was looking or in emergencies.

After the Landsmeet, Garrett approached the leader in her study. He cleared his throat and she jumped, spilling ink all over a piece of parchment in front of her.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Garrett apologised, but she just smiled and turned in her seat, beckoning him closer. He chose to sit on her bed, and looked at his hands for a while. She clicked her tongue a couple of times and Garrett smiled.

“You’re an Amell, right?” he asked. The warden nodded and matched Garrett’s smile.

“Then it looks like you’re my cousin. My mother is Leandra Amell.” Garrett explained. Amell nodded again, as though she had already known this, which made him frown.

“You knew?” he clarified, and once more, she nodded. Letting out a rough sigh, Garret ran a hand through his hair.

“Do you know of any living relatives we may still have in Kirkwall?” he questioned, voice strained with emotion. Amell’s eyes softened and she quickly turned away to her desk to scribble something down.

_Gamlen Amell._

Garrett swallowed and held the piece of paper with trembling hands. Another smaller pair covered his and he looked up to see Amell with a sad smile. She took her hands back and made the sign for ‘father’, whilst Garrett looked on with shock.

“How do you know? I thought you told Alistair you couldn’t remember anything!” he accused, and Amell shook her head.

_W-Y-N-N-E told me yesterday. I was going to tell you later._

They sat for a while in companionable silence; Garrett sharpening his daggers, Amell writing whatever is was she had been working on before he interrupted. The sun had set low in the sky and lanterns had been lit around them before Garrett spoke again.

“I have magic,” he muttered. The sudden silence of a quill scratching was the only indication that he’d been heard. His heart thudded in his chest and the sound of writing continued once more and a piece of paper was shoved onto his lap.

_I know, dumbass._

At that he snorted, and continued sharpening his daggers- this time using a slight enchantment.

 

* * *

 

\--

The Blight was officially over, and Ferelden was celebrating. However, Garrett couldn’t find it in him to celebrate properly once he had returned to Lothering. All that was left of his home village was a smouldering Chantry and logs that had once been houses crumbling to charcoal. Amell stood beside him, a comforting presence and hand on his shoulder.

 _We’ll rebuild. I’ll have Anora send some men down here to help,_ she promised. A weak smile touched Garrett’s lips and he pulled Amell into a hug.

“Thank you,” he mumbled.

And so the rebuilding of Lothering began, but before that, he had a letter to write.

_To my dearest family,_

_It’s Garrett here! I’m sorry it took me so long to write to you, but you would not believe the year I’ve had! I was on patrol with Teyrn Cousland (yes, Carver, I mean Fergus) when the siege at Ostagar occurred and by the time we got back, everything had been laid to waste. I honestly thought that I had lost both Marian and Carver. When I arrived at Lothering I read your letter, mother, and though I wished desperately to join you, I would not have the coin to do so. Instead I travelled to Denerim and found a job there until I was- I kid you not- recruited by the Hero of Ferelden- who happens to be our cousin! Gamlen’s daughter no less! How is the noble life suiting you all? I hope you haven’t been too spoiled._

_We’re currently rebuilding Lothering- as much as I’d like to, I can’t build our home the way it was before. It’s a bit further out from the village, but has more rooms than before (I know how much you hated sharing). It helps being in good graces with the Queen and Hero. How’s Barkspawn doing? I hope to see you all soon!_

_With much love,  
Garrett_

He waited for their reply eagerly, working through the days on the village. At the start there was only Garrett, a handful of travellers and workman there to see the reconstruction. Garrett was proud of what had been achieved so far, however. The Chantry had been the first thing to be rebuilt, housing the refugees and many of the workers. It took them almost a week to clear out the corpses and somehow make the land fertile again. Where the largest piles of bodies had been, red poppies now began to spring up. It was a couple of weeks before he received a reply from his family, and he tore the letter from the crow delivering it with an anxious excitement. His smile dropped from his face however as he read it.

_Garrett_

_You can’t believe how happy we are to hear from you, however, it is with a heavy heart that I must tell you that Carver did not make it with us to Kirkwall._

His hands shook violently and he collapsed to his knees in the dirt of the field outside of the house. He felt vomit rise in his throat, but he swallowed it down.

  _Carver._

His little brother.

 _Gone_.

He couldn’t comprehend it. Sure they hadn’t got on at times, but he still loved him fiercely- he would do anything for him.

_We were attacked by a Darkspawn horde on our way north, and he tried to defend mother from an Ogre. Maker, Garrett, it was horrific._

The ink had run a bit then, obviously where tears had splattered the page. It was through sheer force of will that Garrett kept reading.

_Before that we had a run-in with a Templar and his wife, Aveline. Her husband didn’t survive either, but Aveline accompanied us to Kirkwall. She’s a decent sort- strong, resilient and with a sharp wit- I think you’d like her, despite her background. Needless to say, we took a blow. It’s not going to be the same without him._

_You’re not going to believe this though, brother. We were saved by a fucking DRAGON of all things. A shapeshifter! She was all cryptic and gave us some shady amulet to deliver when we got here. I still haven’t delivered it yet- haven’t had the time. Sundermount is a huge mountain, seriously._

_When we arrived to meet Uncle Gamlen, it was a disaster. So many people fled to Kirkwall to get away from the Blight that they were hardly letting anyone in. Gamlen lost the Amell Estate and fortune by gambling. It had been given to_ slavers _Garrett. Slavers of all people! Needless to say Beth and I sorted them out. We had to work in servitude for a whole year to pay off Gamlen’s debt to get us into the city- smuggling goods- although thankfully it was rarely ever lyrium and NEVER slaves._

_I’m not going to tell Uncle Gamlen about his daughter- why should I when he’s hardly done anything to deserve her? I’m sorry if this isn’t the letter you were expecting, but we’ve all been having a rough time lately. Luckily our year contract runs out in a few days so we’ll be free people- or as free as you can get in Kirkwall. There’s going to be a Deep Roads expedition soon, so I hope to get in on that- maybe then we can get out of the shithole of Lowtown- still I guess it’s not as bad as Darktown. Maker the names of these places are ridiculous._

_I’m glad to hear you’re rebuilding Lothering though! It sounds like an exciting year you had. We’ll visit if we ever get the chance- it’d be great to see my own room. Bethany says hello and mother sends her love._

_I hope to see you soon!_

_Love,  
Marian_

Tears ran down Garrett’s cheeks as he finished the letter, and a sob tore itself from his throat. He didn’t move from his spot on the ground until the sun had started to set, and even then he moved in a daze around the house that now seemed far too large for his liking. Honestly, he’d thought he’d had a bit of a rough year, but from the sounds of it Marian, Bethany, and his mother had been through the grinder. He collapsed onto a seat at the dining table, the letter placed out in front of him with no idea what to write back. Reading through the letter again his eyes backtracked to the part about the Deep Roads expedition. If Marian thought she could drag herself into danger after they’d just lost Carver… mother would have a fit too! It was with that mindset that Garrett pulled more parchment and a quill towards him and began his next letter.

_Marian,_

_I swear to the Maker that if you go on that expedition I will personally poison your food when you come to visit._

_Love,  
Your dearest brother_

He attached the letter to the crow that had sent Marian’s and cast a quick haste spell on it so it would deliver it quickly.

The week passed by in a blur of building and grieving. The morning after he had received Marian’s letter, he travelled down to the river where the four of them used to play as children and sat by the tree they used to climb all over. Garrett closed his eyes and relished in the memory of the warm summer days they’d spent there; his father looking on with a warm smile whilst he sat next to mother with the picnic. Bethany and he would go swimming and try to freeze fish with frost spells, whilst Marian and Carver would duel with branches that had fallen from the trees. He spent the whole day under the tree, and when he moved, he ran his hand over the carved writing on the trunk.

_‘Hawke.’_

The construction of Lothering was going quite well; many places had been rebuilt- the smithy was up and running, and more people had migrated to the village to help rebuild. It was a week later that Garrett received the next letter, along with a package.

_If that’s any way to convince me to visit, you’re going to have to re-think your strategy._

_We’ve found a business partner for the expedition. It’s none other than Varric Tethras! Author of_ Hard in Hightown _! His brother, Bartrand, is leading the expedition so we’re probably in good hands. The bad news is we have to somehow raise 50 sovereigns- although Aveline has joined the guard and is now training to be captain, so maybe she’ll commission us? We also met the strangest elf the other evening. He went through all sorts of trouble to hire us to look for his previous master, but it was sure worth it. He’s so attractive, Garrett- even more so than that stable boy you took a fancy to back in Lothering. He’s got these lyrium markings under his skin, and when I complimented him, he had the most adorable chuckle. His eyes are so beautiful too- a really lovely shade of green._

At this Garrett had to snort. Trust his sister to find romance in the most unlikely of places. He was slightly jealous however that she was rubbing shoulders with Varric Tethras; they’d all been fans of his books back before the Blight, getting their hands on all the copies they could. Garrett could even admit that he liked ‘ _Swords and Shields_ ’ a bit too much.

_But enough about Fenris- we met a Grey Warden. He’s a mage, Garrett, and a healer. He runs a free clinic in Darktown and I’ve never seen a man work so hard in my life. We needed maps for the Deep Roads, and he said we could have them if we helped him out._

_This is where the bad news starts. The Kirkwall Templars? They’re_ brutal _, Gar. They made his friend Tranquil! Even after he’d passed his Harrowing! I can see why father wanted to get away from it all. Don’t worry though- I’ve made friends with one of them, Ser Thrask. He’s the good sort- a sympathiser if you will- helping mages escape the Circle. I’m watching Bethy really close nowadays. Barkspawn is fine, by the way. He’s annoying Gamlen so there’s always a good side._

_Isabela says hi! I can’t believe you worked in the Pearl of all places! Don’t worry, mother won’t find out from me. Bethany couldn’t stop giggling when she found out though, so I wouldn’t count on her._

_Oh! I almost forgot to mention. That amulet the dragon woman gave me? She was IN it, Gar. I delivered it to the top of freaking Sundermount only for her to pop out and be all cryptic again. I did ask her how she managed to become a dragon, but she wouldn’t tell me. Figures. Looks like our dreams will have to wait a little longer. Which brings me onto the next subject. We may have accidentally adopted a blood mage? Her name is Merrill and she’s honestly so sweet you wouldn’t expect it from her! She’s been a great help though so I won’t give it up. I’ll keep you updated on the progress of our expedition (because I’m doing this whether you like it or not- Gamlen’s house stinks of cabbage!)_

_All my love,  
Marian_

_(P.S. It’s a signed copy of Hard in Hightown)_

Garrett couldn’t help but chuckle at the letter, and eagerly opened the package that had been wrapped in brown paper. True to the letter, it was a signed copy of ‘Hard in Hightown’, with a slip of parchment inside.

‘ _Apparently you also like Swords and Shields, so I’ll write you the next instalment of that if your sister doesn’t piss me off.’_

A bark of laughter escaped, and Garrett couldn’t help but realise it was the first time he had smiled all week.

After re-reading the letter a few times, Garrett couldn’t help but become concerned slightly with the company Marian was keeping. Fenris sounded okay, but if he was honest, it was Merrill that worried him the most, but he trusted his sister’s judgement and vowed to stay quiet about it. The mention of the Grey Warden healer had caught his attention, however, and he couldn’t help but wonder what he was like. He shook his head and placed the letter to one side before standing and making his way outside.

Lothering’s progress had been going very well, and Garrett was pretty sure that soon there would be little trace of the Blight. A memorial had been erected in the centre of the main village with names of those lost engraved into it. Garrett visited every day to place a new wooden carving at its base in memory of his little brother. Carver had taken the hobby up at Ostagar, taught by one of the older recruits, and Garrett had teased him endlessly about it. Carver was a carver. Regardless he had still been good at it, and Garrett felt it was only right that he would continue it in his honour.

He made his way into the centre of the village and placed that days carving at the base. It was a little sword that had his brother's name engraved on the blade. After that he ran his daily errands. Trade had steadily come back to the village, and he stocked up on food supplies as well as some fertiliser for the plants he was hoping to grow.

When the sun had set, Garrett was filthy from working his field all day. What had usually taken four of them to do in a few hours now took him all day. It was a great way to take his mind off the grief, however, and so he enjoyed it. He rubbed at the sunburn forming on the bridge of his nose and poured himself a cool bath. His muscles relaxed at the contact and he began scrubbing the day’s dirt from his body in calm soothing circles, something his father had done for him when they’d all been filthy from a day playing in the woods. He was then reminded how empty the house was, and he sighed, the sounds reverberating off the walls.

The next day, Garrett bought a kitten from a struggling family. The family’s mouser had given birth to a litter, and with no way to support them, they were going to drown some of them.  Garrett had swallowed hard and bought them all for a handful of sovereigns that he had saved from his days in Denerim. Three kittens heavier, he returned to his house and placed them in a lined basket in his living room, feeding them with care.  When he came down the next morning, two of them had passed away, and the last one was mewling pathetically. Garrett almost burst into tears. He picked the last one up and cuddled it carefully.

“I should probably name you,” he told the grey kitten with a weak smile. It meowed at Garrett and tried to paw at his face.

“What about Mr Tubbins- do you like that?” The kitten meowed again, and Garrett took that as a yes. He kept Mr Tubbins close as he wrote the next letter.

_Sister,_

_You cannot believe how jealous I am right now! Varric Tethras! I also feel as though I wouldn’t be doing my duty as a twin if I didn’t warn Fenris against breaking your heart however, so please show him this message._

_IF YOU BREAK MY SISTER’S HEART… RUN. SHE WILL FIND YOU AND HUNT YOU DOWN. SERIOUSLY BE AFRAID. BE VERY AFRAID._

_Now that is over and done with, how have you been? Lothering is almost completely rebuilt now! There’s a memorial statue in the centre of the village, and Carver’s name is on there. I make sure to visit every day and tell him how much we miss him. I’ve also picked up his hobby of wood carving too. Maker if the shavings aren’t annoying- I don’t know how he stood it._

_Please be wary of Merrill. She may seem sweet but you never know. I can’t believe that woman wouldn’t tell you how to become a dragon- what a prick. One day we’ll get our dream!_

_I’m sorry to hear about the Healer’s friend- can’t the Grand Cleric do anything about it? I can see about contacting someone from Ferelden’s circle- I heard from Amell that it was a mage by the name of Karl Thekla- perhaps they can step in. How is he holding up? You know how father got when he lost someone- the Healers take it the hardest. Please keep a close eye on Bethany. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her to the Templars. I don’t think I can stand losing any more of you._

_I also got a kitten. They were going to drown him, but I saved him from that fate. He’s a grey tabby-  he’s called Mr Tubbins and he’s going to grow to be an excellent mouser. (Don’t laugh; you called your Mabari ‘Barkspawn’.)_

_For the love of God don’t play Wicked Grace with Isabela, she’ll cheat you out of every sovereign you own. Tell her I send my love as well._

_Hopefully you’ll visit me soon!_  
Love,  
Garrett

Several weeks passed by before he received any word from his family. He had been writing to Bethany and his mother as well as Marian, but they never went into the detail she did. It was only when he inquired why they were taking so long to reply in a letter to his mother that he found out they’d gone into the Deep Roads. That night Garrett sat in his bedroom fighting his way through many panic attacks. The only thing that stopped him from going over the edge completely was the bundle of grey fur in his lap. The next week he purposely busied himself; running even more errands than usual, completing jobs from the Chanter’s board, and even going out of the village to hunt- something he usually didn’t do. The hunting didn’t go so well- his hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and any time he attempted a wood carving he would give up when he kept cutting his hands.

“Maker what’s wrong with me,” he muttered to himself one evening, sat in the corner of his bedroom, running his hands through his hair. Mr Tubbins sat on his bare feet, purring loudly against the silence of the room.

“Shit, if they’re not okay-” he cut himself of, taking in shallow breaths.

“They have to be okay,” he croaked, rubbing his eyes as tears sprung to them. His chest felt tight, and breathing became more difficult. He shook his head rapidly.

_Not again. Not another one. But oh Maker if they’re not okay… I can’t lose them. If either of them are hurt… I should have been there. I should have protected them. If they get hurt it’s my fault. I’m their brother I should be there with them-_

He was so distraught, he didn’t realise the crow until it had pecked his hand, drawing blood. His eyes flew open and he moved so suddenly he startled the bird. It squawked indignantly before offering its leg with a scroll of parchment attached. He snatched it from the bird, which then pecked him again, harder.

_Garrett,_

He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw Marian’s handwriting.

_The Deep Roads… Maker, it was a bit of a disaster, really._

Garrett almost stopped reading right then, a feeling of dread pooling in his stomach, but he willed himself on.

_Varric’s brother, Bartrand? He locked us in a fucking vault. Over a stupid red lyrium idol! We were trapped down there for weeks, Garrett. Luckily we had Anders with us (the Healer) and the maps he stole of the Deep Roads came in handy, and we made our way back to the surface. But Bethany… Bethany contracted the Blight, Garrett. Our little sister._

Garrett’s vision tunnelled, and he could feel himself getting light-headed. He kept on reading, however, despite the terror clawing its way through his heart.

_Anders, though- he was a miracle worker. He told us of a Warden patrol in the Roads, and we were able to get her to them. It was either let her die, or make her a Warden. I’m sorry Garrett but I couldn’t let her die. Not after what happened with Carver. I couldn’t._

_It was Alistair down in the roads. He recognised our surname and brought you up. Maker am I glad that you joined the Hero of Ferelden. Who knows if he would’ve taken her otherwise? He couldn’t tell me much, but he said she’d be stationed in Ferelden. You never know- you could see her some time._

_Bartrand has disappeared, and the money we earned from the expedition is enough that I can buy mother her estate back, so at least we’ll be out of Gamlen’s greasy hair. I’m sorry it had to turn out this way, brother, I really am. I hope the next time I write it will bring good news._

_All my love,  
Marian_

_(P.S Anders had a cat called ‘Ser Pounce-a-Lot’ so I think that overshadows both ‘Barkspawn’ and ‘Mr Tubbins’)_

After he had finished reading, Garrett climbed uneasily to his feet and stumbled to his desk. With shaking hands, he wrote two letters.

_Alistair,_

_My sister said you met them on a Deep Roads expedition and that you recruited my younger sister into the Wardens? Please, I have to know if this is true. If you’re ever in Lothering, feel free to visit me._

_Best wishes,  
Hawke_

The other was marked ‘ _Anders_ ’, and inside it said only two words:

_Thank you._


	2. Act 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I promised this last week but I honestly had started it, but then I had to start writing my Uni essays. I apologise for the delay. The next chapter should be out next week! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for all the kudos' and comments! They honestly made my day, and I'm surprised at the amount of support I've gotten. Thank you all so much!

An extra letter was sent a week after Garrett received the last one, along with another package.

_Garrett,_

_Fenris legitimately chuckled at your warning- I think he was expecting to be threatened, not warned. And on that note- screw you! I’m not that scary!_

_I’m sorry about the bad news from the last letter. I wrote you as soon as we hit the surface- I honestly felt it best you were informed as soon as possible of what had happened. I’m assuming you received a letter from Bethany as well saying that she’d survived her joining? It makes me wonder what they do before you join up. I had been warned that we might not hear from her again, and to be honest the admission makes me antsier than is probably acceptable. Either way, what’s done is done now, and hopefully we can get back onto more pleasant topics._

_I can’t believe you’ve taken up Carver’s old hobby! You used to complain so much about the shavings- how they’d always get in your bed. I’d never told you, but I always told Carver to sit on your bed when he did it, just to annoy you. I’m glad he has a memorial. You can imagine there wasn’t much time for one on the road._

_Anders is holding up well, I can only assume. Remember how father used to just throw himself into his work? He’s doing a lot of that. Honestly, I wonder if he ever sleeps. I asked him if he wanted you to bring it up with the Ferelden Circle, but he just scoffed and walked away. I’ve heard stories of what had happened there, Garrett, and none of them too pleasant._

_Mother keeps throwing all these Hightown parties, and while I love the woman dearly, it’s tiring to have her try and find suitable husbands for me. I’ve taken to inviting Fenris as my plus one to everything. Of course mother isn’t all too pleased, but it gets the nobles whispering, and you know how mother loves to be the centre of gossip. Every time I invite him, he huffs and narrows his eyes, but I can see a little smile on his face, so I don’t think he means it. Now if only mother would let him stay the night._

_Don’t worry about Merrill; she’s as harmless as a kitten! Speaking of, I told Anders you had adopted a kitten, and he’s practically yellow with jealousy! There aren’t many cats in Kirkwall; I’d have thought that they’d all been eaten. A shame really, that we’ve been brought to such measures._

_I suppose I should also tell you about the Arishok- apparently he’s taken a liking to me. I help him out with the odd task, and he grunts approval, Fenris grunts back. Honestly, I’ll never understand the Qunari. Still, there is unrest at their presence. Hopefully it won’t escalate too badly. There’s already this Chantry Mother, Petrice, and she looks so shady it wouldn’t surprise me if she caused an uprising._

_I’ll write soon with more news!_  
Love,  
Marian

Garrett placed the letter to one side and smiled slightly. His sister’s crush was developing, mother seemed to be happy, and true to the letter, he had received word from Bethany that her Joining had gone well. The news about an Arishok in Kirkwall made his stomach turn, however, and he briefly remembered Isabela telling him something about a Qunari relic before he had left the Pearl. Garrett shook his head; the two couldn’t possibly be connected.  He scratched Mr Tubbins behind the ears and opened the package that had been attached to the letter. It was the next instalment of ‘Swords and Shields’. A laugh bubbled up from his throat, and he opened the front cover to see it signed, and a spare bit of parchment with a message on it.

_Your sister is hilarious. Have this on me. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about Bethany. Mark my words when we find Bartrand, we’ll make him pay._

Garrett’s laugh died out and his smile faded at the thought of Bethany. Alistair had written back just after he’d received the news from his younger sister to confirm that she had indeed joined the Wardens, and that he’d be stopping by in a couple of weeks to see the progress of Lothering. Although he was nervous to see Alistair again, he was delighted by the prospect of seeing his little sister. She had written to him to say she’d be accompanying Alistair to Lothering within the next week, and so Garrett was busy making the house as presentable as possible; setting up Bethany’s room and the spare one with blankets and pillows. It was then that Garrett realised how isolated he’d become. Sure, he went into the village for supplies, but he never really spoke to any of the locals, just kept to himself.

“It’s probably safer this way,” he muttered quietly to Mr Tubbins, who was curled up purring on his lap. He gently picked the kitten up and placed him on the table before he started on the day’s work. The crops were coming along wonderfully, and Garrett smiled to himself as he tended the fields. Birds chirped in the distance and clouds drifted lazily across the skies. As he worked, he found his thoughts drifting to his sister’s letters- more particularly to Anders. He had only heard brief things about the Darktown Healer, but he couldn’t help but feel he was a good person. It made him wonder what he’d be like if they’d met. How would he hold himself- what did his voice sound like?  Shaking those thoughts from his head, he continued on the farm, his back aching and sweat pouring down his back. The sun had all but left the sky when Garrett had finished, wiping dirt and sweat from his brow. He missed the company of his family like a constant ache in his stomach and he entertained the brief thought of hiring some help before snuffing it out quickly.

 _‘I can’t get caught.’_ He told himself sternly, making his way into the house. Mr Tubbins was rolling around on the floor, swiping at the tassels from the blanket that was draped over a comfortable chair.

“I should probably make you a collar,” Garrett mused, but Mr Tubbins ignored him in favour of playing with the blanket. After a long and hot bath, Garrett sat on the sofa in front of the fire some strips of leather and metal clasping. It took him about an hour, but when he had finished, a small red and blue leather collar had been made for Mr Tubbins. The kitten in question was sat dozing in front of the fire, so Garrett crouched down and clasped it gently around its neck.

“There we go- you look dashing!” he complimented. The only reply was a deep purring, so Garrett returned to the sofa, collecting some parchment and a quill.

_Marian,_

_I must inform you that if you sleep with Fenris, I will have no choice but to punch him out of brotherly duty. But apart from that, I wish him luck. I’m glad mother is alright, despite the circumstances. I do worry about her sometimes. I worry about all of you. It would be okay if I could visit, but at the moment there’s only me to look after the farm- and what on earth would I do with Mr Tubbins? I daren’t take him to Kirkwall- he’d be eaten, or at the very least cat-napped by Anders!_

_I wrote to Alistair, and he and Bethany should be visiting Lothering within the week. I’m so excited to see her again. Assuming cousin Amell is with him, I’ll bring up the issues with the Circle- there’s no way she’d stand for it- Flames, she made the Queen promise that things would get better! I’d ask when you’re going to visit, but I guess being a Hightown resident doesn’t leave you much time to come annoy your twin. No worries, I’ll leave all the annoying for when you do, and then you’ll be begging to leave!_

_I can’t believe you told Carver to whittle on my bed! I’ve half a mind to fill your mattress here with wood shavings now, but because I am the more responsible twin, I shall withhold from doing so._

_Things are so quiet here, Marian- I’m glad you’ve got all your friends to help you through it. What I wouldn’t give to be there with you. I’d hire help for the farm, but as you can understand I don’t quite want to get caught using magic. All it takes is one careless comment and quick as you like I could be in the Circle. That’s if they don’t brand me Maleficar first. I went over the memorial today; it seems it was only our family that survived the Blight. Everyone we knew… gone. I’m sorry this was meant to be a cheerful letter, and now I’ve gone and spoiled it._

_Be careful around the Arishok- I know you’ve been one to go headfirst into fights, but please, for me, Marian? I miss you all so much._

_I love you,  
Garrett_

Mentally exhausted, he tied the letter to the crow that had permanently taken up residence in his house, and fell asleep where he was on the sofa.

He woke the next morning to a pounding on the door, and with no grace whatsoever, he stumbled to open it, only to be shoved to the ground. Panic rose in his throat, until he heard the excited yelling from on top of him, and realised he was being hugged- not restrained.

“Garrett! Oh Maker it’s so good to see you!”

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and he squashed the girl in his arms closer to his chest.

“Bethany,” he sighed, breathing in the smell of her shampoo and feeling her hair under his fingers.

“Well isn’t this a touching family reunion!” came a jolly voice from the doorway. Garrett opened his eyes to see Alistair leaning against the doorframe one of his arms around Amell’s waist. She smiled and waved whilst next to her a man with dark hair and a long nose looked on with affection at Bethany.

“Well hi to you too! Bethany, could you please let me up off the floor I’m having trouble breathing,” he wheezed, even though he didn’t want her to move. It seemed Bethany felt the same, as she parted from him reluctantly. The two of them stood, and Garrett held her by the shoulders, taking in her appearance. She looked to be a bit thinner from when he last saw her, but other than that, she looked fine.

“By the Maker I’ve missed you,” he croaked, pulling her into a hug again. She returned it enthusiastically, before pulling away.

“As sweet as this is, do you think you could let us in past the doorway?” she chuckled, a wetness in her eyes. Garrett swallowed and nodded, inviting the others in. He clasped hands with Alistair as he passed and pulled Amell into a hug. The last person, however, he smiled at.

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” he commented warily. The man smiled tightly and offered his hand to shake. Garrett took it and squeezed it firmly, the pressure was then returned.

“Nathaniel Howe. I joined the Wardens a year ago,” he told Garrett, who nodded and let go of his hand. An elbow to his ribs caught him off guard.

“He’s also my boyfriend, so be nice!” Bethany scolded, and Garrett’s eyes narrowed. Nathaniel shook his head with a small smile, before moving to take Bethany’s hand.

“It’s a lovely home you have here, Garrett- and Lothering is coming along very nicely!” Alistair complimented, breaking the tension. Garrett turned to look at them in his living room with a small smile.

“That it is. I’ll make you all some tea shall I?” he asked. Everyone nodded so Garrett made his way to the kitchen.

“Make yourself at home- and watch out for Mr Tubbins,” he warned. Amell settled herself onto the sofa next Alistair, and beckoned the tiny kitten onto her lap. She chuckled slightly at the ball of fur, whilst Alistair sneezed.

As the kettle boiled, Garrett sat himself at the dining table, surveying the group before him.

“So how have you all been?” he asked politely.

 _‘Not that bad! Saw some talking Darkspawn, recruited a spirit of Justice- you know, the usual,’_ Amell smirked, and Garrett chuckled.

“Why is it that you always have the most trouble?” he asked. Amell just shrugged and leant into Alistair, who smiled at her fondly and pressed a kiss to her temple. Nathaniel looked to Bethany longingly, obviously wanting to do the same, but wary of Garrett’s presence.

“I’m not going to punch you for kissing my sister- I know she could easily kick your arse if she wanted to,” Garrett commented, to which Nathaniel spluttered, and Bethany laughed. The piercing shriek of the kettle interrupted them, and Garrett stood to make the tea. He carried it back to the living room on a tray and handed it to those sat down. As a comfortable silence settled, Garrett saw the opportunity to ask about Karl.

“Amell, I know this isn’t exactly a pleasant topic of conversation but… Karl Thekla- you knew him, right?” he asked. At the mention of his name, Bethany’s grip on her teacup tightened. She obviously hadn’t told his cousin about it- and even though Garrett had asked about Karl in his letters, he hadn’t mentioned his fate to his cousin.

‘ _Yes, he’s a lovely gentleman, and a wonderful teacher,’_ She signed with a frown. Garrett swallowed and placed his teacup down.

“He… he was made Tranquil last year at the Gallows.”

At the announcement, Amell’s teacup dropped to the floor and her eyes widened in a panic.

 _‘What? But he’d passed his Harrowing! It’s against the Chantry law!’_ Her hands flew from one word to the next, and Garrett almost had a hard time keeping up.

“I know- I was wondering if anything could be done about it- even though it’s Kirkwall, he was originally from Ferelden. Could the Circle step in and do something about it?” Garrett implored. Alistair had gone pale beside Amell, and Nathaniel was gazing uncomfortably into his tea. Bethany had placed a hand on Amell’s arm and squeezed gently.

“He was in danger- Anders was trying to rescue-” she didn’t get another word out before Amell had started signing again.

_‘Anders is in Kirkwall? We need to get him out! Alistair, love, we need to get him out, protect him. If Harrowed mages are being made Tranquil-’_

“Wait, you know Anders?” Garrett asked, interrupting his cousin. Amell nodded fiercely.

 _‘I recruited him into the Wardens at Amaranthine. Gave him Ser Pounce-a-Lot. Darling please, we need to go to Kirkwall!’_ Amell was on the brink of hyperventilating.

“Love, we can’t- I’m so sorry,” Alistair apologised, and he looked genuinely torn up about it.

 _‘I never should have left. Maker this is all my fault. I’ll speak to the Circle as soon as I can, I promise._ ’ Tears dripped down her face, and her hands fell into her lap, shaking. Garrett then felt immensely guilty for having brought the subject up.

“I’m sorry to have brought this up,” he apologised, but Amell shook her head, wiping the tears from her face.

“Would you like a tour of the farm?” he asked weakly, and she nodded.

“Come on then, I’ll show you all around my wonderful home,” he joked, and Bethany jumped to her feet, grinning weakly.

“It’d better be as good as I remember it!”

The group stayed for five days before moving on. As Bethany was about to part, she drew Garrett in for a crushing hug and kissed him fiercely on the cheek.

“I’ll write to you as often as I can,” she promised, burying her face into the crook of Garrett’s neck. Garrett smiled weakly and held her close.

“Just be sure to invite me to the wedding,” he joked, and in the background, Nathaniel grew red in the face and choked on air. Alistair patted him heartily on the back whilst Bethany giggled against Garrett’s throat.

“Of course, I promise.” Garrett reluctantly let go and waved them all goodbye. As they disappeared over the horizon, Garrett let out a long sigh and turned back towards his house, which now seemed more empty and depressing than before. A letter awaited him on the side that he hadn’t opened yet, but knew to be from Marian. No longer able to put off the inevitable, he closed his front door and opened the letter.

_Garrett,_

_I love you too. Please don’t get too upset that we aren’t there. I swear, as soon as all this is over with, we’ll come visit- all of us! Don’t ever apologise for telling me how you’re feeling. I know it’s not the easiest thing for you to do, but I will always listen, Garrett- even if it’s you ranting about how much of a crush you have on someone or that some prick was trampling over your Elfroot. We miss you too._

_Anyways, speaking of how far away I am, I swear to the Maker if you come all the way to Kirkwall just to punch Fenris, I’m dumping you in the Darktown sewer and giving Mr Tubbins to Anders. Maker knows he needs a cat… and a blanket. The day I see him take a break will be the day Andraste returns to us. Speaking of Anders, I saw a note in his clinic the other day, and I could have sworn it was in your writing. I asked him about it, but he just shook his head and put it with another stack of papers- probably his manifesto. It’s one of the dullest things I’ve ever read, and I keep finding copies of it all over the estate! No matter how much I agree with it, it doesn’t change the fact that it would probably put me to sleep. Varric and I offered to help lighten it up, but he scoffed and said, I quote: “The truth shouldn’t be glittered up- Thedas has to see the harsh truth of the injustices committed.” I mean that’s admirable and everything but if you want to build up a following you have to be polite_ and _passionate, at least that’s my opinion._

_If you put wood shavings in my bed I’ll put hair-removal potion in your shampoo, just for fair warning. Anyways, since when is the younger sibling ever the responsible one?_

_I tried to bring up that you would be talking to Amell about Karl to Anders, but he just shut me out- I think he and the Commander may have left on bad terms. Either way, try not to upset anyone with your investigation, and for the love of Andraste, try not to get yourself caught by Templars. If anyone links you to the mages in Kirkwall they’ll try and get to you for sure._

_You hear terrible stories about the Knight-Commander here in Kirkwall; just walking in the Gallows and overhearing the mages makes my skin crawl. Makes me glad that Bethy was taken in by the Wardens._

_Please don’t miss us too much- we’ll be home before you know it!_

_Love as always,  
Marian_

Garrett sniffed and wiped the tears from his cheeks. Maker he missed his twin so much. A watery smile overtook his face as he wrote a reply, Mr Tubbins curled into a ball on his lap.

_Dearest Sister,_

_Bethany visited this week- it was the reason I didn’t reply. She told me to send her love. You’ll never believe this but she has a boyfriend! Rendon Howe’s son no less! Don’t worry, I had a stern talk with him before they left, and you should know that it left him suitably shaken and warned. She has nightmares- every night. Luckily we were able to calm her. Amell said they happened to her a lot for the first few months too. It makes me glad she’s with the Wardens. They’ll know how to look after her, and her magic is protected that way._

_Cousin Amell also said she’d personally contact Queen Anora in regards to what happened with Karl- both she and Alistair are on good terms with her, apparently, so I can’t see this sort of thing going ignored. There will be justice for what happened in Kirkwall!_

_And fuck you! I’m younger by two minutes! What difference does that make really? You can threaten to dump me in a Darktown sewer all you want; as long as Mr Tubbins is protected I’ll be fine. I’m sure the Healer would take good care of him. But yes, I sent Anders a thank you for saving Bethany. It was the least I could do. Also, ask him for a copy of that manifesto for me- you might think it dull, but you know how I love the rantings of other people whilst I sip my tea._

_Don’t worry, I’ll be careful with my skills- we’ve spent our whole lives on the run, it’s kind of hard to forget that sort of thing._

_Love as always,  
Garrett_

 

* * *

 

\--

Marian and Garrett continued correspondence over the next three years, letters coming twice a week. Whilst Garrett updated her with news of Lothering _(I’m pretty sure I saw a Chantry sister making out with the barmaid the other day)_ Marian kept Garrett informed of her adventures in Kirkwall. _(There was a fucking HIGH DRAGON in the Bone Pit, Garrett. I FOUGHT A HIGH DRAGON I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE OF A HEART ATTACK.)_

_Tell Anders his manifesto was actually pretty inspiring. I’ve been teaching apostates survival skills at the farm and helping them get established in the Korcari Wilds._

_-_

_Garrett you huge tit! Do you know how dangerous that is?! Although it did seem to brighten Anders’ day when I told him, so thanks for that. I so rarely see him smile now. I’m going to have to burn your previous letter now, you know that right?_

_-_

_I saw Bethany again today- don’t tell her I told you, but she’s looking a bit pudgy around the middle!_

_-_

_THAT’S BECAUSE SHE’S PREGNANT YOU ASS DID YOU NOT GET HER LETTER? THE WEDDING IS NEXT SPRING! Also, Fenris and I finally got together… he left me afterwards- but it’s okay; he’s got some problems he needs to work through. I understand._

_-_

_I AM GOING TO COME TO KIRKWALL AND FIGHT HIM. HE CAN MEET ME IN THE FUCKING PIT. Also I’m very happy for Bethany I can’t believe she’s getting married before me!_

_-_

_Ugh, this Mother Petrice is giving me a forsaken headache. Fight her for me please whilst I take a nap?_

_-_

_Oh I get it- I can’t come to Kirkwall to fight for your honour, but one Chantry mother gives you grief and it’s all ‘Garrett please come do my bidding’. Sort her out yourself, you lazy git!_

_-_

_Merrill’s trying to restore this mirror of ancient Elvhen history and we had to fight this huge stick insect I swear to the maker I’m going to lose my shit over here. I mean, I love Merrill to pieces and I’d get the moon for her, but I draw the line at giant stick insects._

_-_

_A group of mages I helped earlier this month were caught again by the Templars. The way they were brought in… there’s no way they ended up in that state from being in The Wilds. Anders is right. Fuck the Chantry._

_-_

_How many of these letters am I going to have to burn? But here’s something. One of the Templars here… he was working on something called a ‘Tranquil Solution’. Maker it was awful. We managed to dispose of him before he went too far. Thankfully that’s one less Templar in the world._

_-_

_GUESS WHO ADOPTED MORE KITTENS!_

_-_

_Anders hates you. Also, I met Zevran today! He said some pretty weird things. What did you two get up to in Ferelden?! Something along the lines of: “I miss his physique. Your brother had a way of being very… powerful, and persuasive- not that I needed persuading of course.” DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO GET THE MENTAL IMAGE OUT OF MY HEAD?!_

 

* * *

 

 

The letters continued in such a fashion until just after Wintermarch. Garrett had been wrapped up tightly in several blankets playing with Mr Tubbins and the other three kittens when a tapping on his window caught his attention. With some reluctance, he stood from his spot in front of the fire and made his way to the window to open it. He shivered as the bitter air whipped his face, and flakes of snow drifted in and melted in the heat of the house. The crow flew into the house and landed on the table, shaking itself off and then flying to its cage to gulp down some water and feast on the dried nuts and bread in its food bowl. Garrett wrestled the window down and made his way back to the sofa, wrapping himself back up in his blanket and putting his feet in front of the fire. The kittens were mewling by his legs, and Mr Tubbins had taken up residence on Garrett’s lap, something he now did whenever the human received a letter. Garrett opened the letter as he usually would.

The room went icy.

He couldn’t move.

The writing was shaky, and tears splattered the pages.

_Garrett,_

_~~It is with a heavy hear~~ \- ~~mother has~~ \- ~~It pains me to write…~~_

_She’s gone, Garrett. Mother is gone. Killed by some blood mage because she reminded him of his dead wife. I killed the bastard myself- kept going until there was nothing left of him to recognise. Aveline had to pull me off its corpse. WHY SHOULD HE SURVIVE WHEN MOTHER COULDN’T?!_

_I don’t know what to do, Garrett. Tell me what to do! Let me know it’s okay, please!_

_Maker, Garrett, it hurts so much. I want you here with me. To the Flames with everything- I need you here Garrett. My friends can’t help- Fenris bless his cotton socks tried; Anders, Merrill, Varric- the only one who could do anything at all was Aveline- but she’s not YOU!_

_I need my little brother. I need you, Bethany, and Carver- but you can’t be here and it hurts so much._

_I want my family back._

_We can’t even have a forsaken burial for her because of the state that filthy Maleficar had put her in._

_Curse the day blood magic was discovered._

_Curse it all._

Garrett’s breathing was barely existent. His hands gripped the letter tightly, his own tears joining the stains on the parchment, running the ink even further. This couldn’t be right. His mother couldn’t be gone! It was as if every nightmare had come true in that moment. Bethany was with the Wardens, Marian was hundreds of miles away, and now his mother, Carver, and Father were all dead.

He was completely alone.

Garrett didn’t remember falling asleep, but the nightmares made sure he knew it. Demons swarmed his dreams- both the figurative and literal. As the week went on, Garrett found himself lying on the sofa every day, the cursed letter still in his hand. Mr Tubbins nudged at his arm, and the kittens cried in the background from the neglect. Only then did Garrett move to fill their bowls with cream and food, before returning to his vigil back on the sofa. Sleep evaded him; there were only states of semi-consciousness, but somehow he found the strength to keep the kittens fed and watered. His farm suffered, and two weeks later, there was another tap on the window. Confused, as he hadn’t sent any messages recently, he gathered the motivation to walk to the window, where a different bird sat waiting patiently, a letter and parcel attached to it. Garrett took the objects and watched curiously as the bird jumped onto his dining table and made itself at home, pruning its feathers. With a resolved sigh, he opened the letter and placed the package on the table next to the crow.

_Garrett,_

_I must express my extreme condolences in regards to your mother._

Just the opening sentence was enough to make him scoff in disgust and almost throw the letter away. But the next few lines caught his attention.

_I know how hard it is to cope after losing someone you love- I was like that when Karl was killed._

Garrett swallowed uneasily and sat down at the table to continue reading, now knowing who the letter was from.

_It honestly pains me that magic would be used in such a horrific way. As I’m sure your sister assured you, the bastard paid for the atrocious act he committed. Personally, I still do not feel it was justice enough. But enough on that. After Karl’s passing, I had trouble sleeping- the spirit possessing me usually keeps me safe from demons whilst I sleep, and it has been a long time since I have connected properly with the Fade; however you don’t have such a luxury. I designed this tonic with the help of Justice whilst I was Amaranthine with the Wardens. Your cousin Amell had particularly bad night terrors, and demons would keep coming to her as she slept. I only hope that this can help you as it helped her._

_It is a tonic designed to put you to sleep, without any influence of the fade. It has spirit essence within it, and therefore is not exactly legal- please do keep it out of sight from Templars- I would hate for you to be captured because of something such as this being in your possession. There should be enough in there for a full two weeks. Take one drop each evening before you go to bed._

_Once again, I express my deepest condolences on the loss of your mother. Forgive me for saying so if it isn’t my place, but Leandra was a wonderful woman who always had a kind word to say, and the world will be less with her in it._

_My strongest regards,  
A_

A rough sob tore its way from Garrett’s throat, and he broke down. His hands clenched his hair and tugged, tears poured down his face and snot dripped from his nose. He sat like that for what felt like hours but was probably only about twenty minutes before he sniffed and gathered himself. When he had, he pulled a scrap of parchment towards him. Tears still splattered the page, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

_Thank you. I’m sure I’ll sleep well tonight._

_For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about what happened to Karl._

He sent the note with the crow before unwrapping the phial of tonic. It was a deep purple in colour, with what seemed like a glittering essence swirling around inside. A pipette was attached to the stopper, and he squeezed some liquid into it before placing a drop on his tongue. A wave of dizziness swept over him, and he had barely made it onto his bed before he had passed out cold.

No demons plagued him that night.

 

* * *

 

\--

With the help of the tonic, Garrett’s life eased back into some sense of normality. He was still aching from the loss of his mother- it was as though a part of him was permanently missing that he couldn’t replace- but he was able to do his daily chores and get into some sort of routine. It was only then that he wrote back to Marian, the shame and guilt of not replying eating away at him.

_Marian,_

_Words cannot express how awful I feel for not contacting you sooner. I’m a terrible brother, and you deserve better. It’s times like these when we need each other most, and I abandoned that duty. I can only hope that you forgive me in the future._

_I love you, Marian. Every day we have together on this earth is a treasure to me. With just us and Beth left, we need to stick together now more than ever._

_It will be okay, Marian. I promise you; and I never go back on my promises. We’ll make sure to eradicate any lowlife scum who dares taint magic in such a way._

_You are loved, dear sister. Me, Beth, your friends; we love you so much. We will always be here for you- always in spirit if not physically. One day, when I can leave, I will come straight to Kirkwall and kick anyone’s ass who has hurt you._

_I miss you so much it’s like a missing limb sometimes; but know that I do love you. So much._

_I promise I will visit soon.  
Garrett_

 As the tonic ran low, Garrett began to panic. He didn’t want the nightmares or demons to return. It had been so awful the first time, and he didn’t think he’d be able to handle it all again now that he was getting back on his feet. He scrawled a quick note, and sent it off with 10 gold pieces.

_I’m running low. Please, help. I can’t handle it just yet._

Two days later, just as the tonic had run out, there was another batch of tonic- more than the last one.

_Don’t rely too heavily on this- it will affect your magic in the long run. You’re stronger than you think, I know it. I believe in you.  
A_

The neatly written words sent a small flush of heat down his body, and Garrett grimaced. Just this one batch and he’d be fine- he wouldn’t have to rely on it any longer, and there would be no more letters from Anders with illegal tonics attached. Resolve strengthened, Garrett nodded to himself and continued with his routine; farming, playing with the kittens, and relaxing in the evening, all topped off with a drop of the spirit tonic.

Amell visited again that week, only by herself. Garrett let her into the house, a warm smile on his face.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked, moving around to make drinks.

‘ _I’m going to be going away for a while, and I need to tell you something before I leave,_ ’ she signed. Garrett nodded and handed her her drink before sitting down next to her on the sofa. Amell took a sip of her drink and set it down on the worn table in front of the sofa that Garrett had carved that week when he’d had the time.

‘ _I spoke to Anora about Karl. We convened with the First Enchanter of the Ferelden Circle, as well as the Knight Commander. They were furious with what had happened, but because it was now Kirkwall’s jurisdiction they couldn’t do anything about it. We had message sent to the Grand Cleric, however, but she agreed with the circles. I’m sorry, I wish I had better news.’_ She explained. Throughout her explanation, Garrett had just deflated even more, until he sighed roughly, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Andraste’s flaming knickers, this is worse than I thought,” he muttered, and Amell hummed in agreement, taking more sips of her tea. They sat in a companionable silence, until something caught Amell’s eye. They widened substantially, and she made a shocked noise, pointing to the phial on the table. She placed her cup back down and waved at Garrett, who had decided staring into his teacup would be a great idea.

‘ _Justice is with Anders?!_ ’ she signed, and Garrett nodded.

“Yeah-he took him in after his previous body started to deteriorate too much. Also Justice felt as though he could help with the mages’ plight,” Garrett explained, having gained that much from his manifesto. Speaking of…

“Anders wrote a manifesto- would you like to borrow my copy for reading on your journey?” he asked lightly. Amell was shaking and pale, however.

“Hey, are you alright?” Garrett asked, placing his cup down and jumping to kneel in front of the woman who was as pale as a sheet. Her hands moved shakily from her side.

‘ _I should never have left. Weisshaupt could eat my ass for all I care. I shouldn’t have left Anders- should have taken him with me if anything. If it gets out that he’s merged with a spirit… people won’t understand the difference! They’ll see him as an abomination and nothing else. Maker, what happened whilst I was gone?’_ Garrett gently took Amell’s hands and coaxed her to look him in the eyes. In a way she reminded him of Bethany when she would accidentally cast a spell at the wrong time.

“Hey, listen to me. None of this is your fault. You couldn’t have known what was going to happen, and you had duties as Warden Commander. But don’t worry about Anders- he has people, _good people_ looking out for him. My sister is one of them. She’d never let anything happen to him. You’re not at fault, cousin, you never were. You did what you had to do, okay?”  Amell nodded through her tears and pulled Garrett in for a hug. He patted her back softly and closed his eyes, the worry he felt for her easing slightly as he ran his hand over her hair.

“You’ll be okay,” he promised. She sniffed once more before pulling back and knocking him softly on the chin.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too, cousin.”

Amell departed two days later, and took one of the kittens with her. As much as Garrett adored them, the smallest orange one had taken a shining to her, and he couldn’t bear to let them be parted. Garrett sighed roughly and collapsed on the sofa, wondering when the next letter from Marian would come through. He didn’t have to wonder for long, however, as a crow swooped in through the open window, dumping a letter on his lap. Garrett almost had a heart attack when he noticed small flecks of blood on it.

_Brother,_

_Though I understand you needed time to grieve, a reply sooner would have done you no harm. I’m trying my best to be angry with you, but I honestly can’t. Not after what happened._

_The Arishok finally made his move. After converting ‘believers’ to the Qun, Mother Petrice killed the Viscount’s son! In the Chantry of all places! I knew I should have cut the bitch’s head off when she tried to have me killed in that escort mission! Needless to say a war broke out then! I did manage to see Bethy for a bit however! She looked so fierce fighting off all those Qunari. In the small interlude, I managed to ask her about the child. Twins, Garrett! She had twins! How cool is that?! Needless to say, she named one of them Carver, and the other Leandra. I asked Anders about it later, and he said it was quite common for the twin gene to pass on… whatever that means._

_Anyway, I digress. The main point is we had to stop the Qunari invasion. Turns out Isabela had stolen an ancient relic from them- like the equivalent of the first copy of the Chant. She ran, and left us to face the Arishok alone. However, as we met up with him, she returned it. I can understand why she did it- some man named Castillon had been hunting her down for it and it was the only way she could get him off her back._

_So Isabela returned the relic, but the Arishok also wanted Isabela. No way was I going to let that happen. So then Fenris arranges this duel- one on one- me versus the Arishok. Honestly, I was so exhausted at the end of it, I was barely conscious for them crowning me Champion of Kirkwall. I honestly hope Varric makes it more exciting in the tales he tells. Half an hour of me running and screaming at Fenris for betraying me isn’t exactly romantic._

_The Arishok had a huge sword too- got impaled on it once towards the end. Luckily Anders was there to patch me up. He used magic in front of the whole of Hightown- but I assumed that as he saved the ‘Champion’, most nobles were glad to overlook it. Knight Commander Meredith though? She was furious. She didn’t show it, but I could tell. Maker I shudder at what she wants to do to the poor mages in this city. I might ask Anders if he wants to move into one of the spare rooms of our estate. Maker knows we have enough of them. In fact I might just ask everyone to move in with me. Apart from Aveline, of course. She’s getting married too! Why does it feel like everyone is ahead of us with the romance? Even Merrill and Isabela are dating now! Maybe we’re just inept souls._

_Once this Champion business settles down, I should have time to visit you!_

_I miss you, brother!  
Love,_

_Marian_

“MAKER BE DAMNED, MARIAN- I TURN MY BACK FOR ONE SECOND!”

 

* * *

 

 

 

 


	3. Act 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took me so long to get around to. I honestly have no excuse apart from I had no motivation. Thank you all so much for being so patient with me about this! I hope you enjoy this newest installment!
> 
> Trigger warning for slight suicidal thoughts. This was not a completely happy chapter :(

 

Garrett fretted for weeks after the news of the Arishok duel. Mr Tubbins could feel the tension rolling off of him in waves and had decided to make himself scarce for most of the time. The letter he had sent the day after receiveing Marian’s was full of foul language and full-blown threats should she not be looking after herself properly.

_Marian,_

_Are you fucking kidding me?! I told you to go careful! How could you?! Though I admit to the fact I was a callous prick in not writing to you sooner, you could have at least taken into account how such a reckless move could have damaged the family even further. You know we’re all we have left! Do you want Bethany’s twins growing up without an aunt? She already doesn’t have grandparents. How could you do this to us- to me!_

_And send Fenris to the Flames for even arranging the duel! When I meet him, he will be learning what it was like for your old boyfriends, and how friendly my fist can be with his face._

_Also tell Isabela that though I’m proud she came back, she’s an idiot for still pursuing the relic. It was a pain back at The Pearl, and it’s evidently a pain now. Also, send Castillon my way. I need to work my anger out somehow- and what’s better than sending me the man that has caused so many years of grief to us both?_

_I can’t believe Bethy had twins! Also I’m jealous she didn’t write to me about them. It’s so surreal to be an uncle now- hopefully one better than Gamlen._

_Move everyone into the estate. Now. You have to keep them all safe. I’ve heard talk from Amell about The Gallows- shit, Marian- I won’t claim to know more about what you’ve seen than from what I’ve heard, but Karras? Alrik? They’re fucking monsters. Protect your friends at all costs. And in answer to your question- yes. We are inept souls. That doesn’t mean we won’t find love, however._

_I’m honestly so angry with you right now, Marian. I still love you though._

_Speak to you soon!  
Garrett_

The mood continued to go further south after Anders’ tonic had run out, and the nightmares came back. With little sleep, and no reply from Marian, Garrett took out his frustration the only way he knew how. Frequent visits to the Chantry and completing Chanters’ quests had him out of the house more, talking to more people. Despite the fact it was refreshing actually talking to people, the paranoia of them finding out he was a mage left him antsy; checking over his shoulder to see if there was anyone looking when he gave his crops a boost after their neglect.

After a year with no contact from Marian, Garrett awoke one morning and didn’t move. The reoccurring nightmare of losing his whole family and being made Tranquil had left him drained, and tears were streaming down his face. His mind was blank, the fear from the dream leaving him as soon as he’d awoke.

‘ _There’s no point.’_

Garrett rolled onto his side and stared blankly at the wall. What _was_ the point? Why did he keep going every day when there was practically no-one there beside him? His magic was a constant fear- his paranoia kept him from truly experiencing anything.

 _‘Maybe I should turn myself in to the Templars.’_ As soon as that thought crossed his mind, he let out a shuddering breath and curled in on himself. What would his family have thought of him in that moment? Reduced to a blank mess, giving up on all hope? He’d come so far from Ostagar- his confidence and charm slipping until he’d been made a shell of his former self.

 _‘You helped rebuild Lothering! You rebuilt a farm from nothing and helped stop the blight!’_ a voice that sounded suspiciously like Leliana’s pointed out. Garrett had to grimace at that. He’d met the former sister when she was helping Amell as well, and though she was initially surprised by Garrett’s magic, no Templars had come for him yet- he supposed it had to do with the fact they had formed a close friendship during their year together- as well as the fact she doted upon Bethany.

A scratching on his bedroom door caught his attention, and he shifted under his covers once more to see Mr Tubbins and the other kittens- now turned cats- padding towards him. Mr Tubbins jumped up onto the bed and snuggled under the covers with Garrett, whilst the other two (Ser Whiskers and Sister Nightingale- named after Leliana) sat by his face, pawing at his beard. A shaky smile overtook his face, and he closed his eyes. Maybe everything would seem better after some more sleep.

The lethargy last for another four months- sometimes it would be worse, and he wouldn’t be able to move from his bed all day. It was on those days the cats kept him company. Other days, it seemed as though everything was fine, and those were the days Garrett regretted his thoughts about handing himself over to the Templars. There were still days, however, where the idea of going to The Circle seemed like a good choice- then he would remember what Amell had told him about her experience, and he would shudder and keep his cats closer.

It was just after Harvestmere, 9:36 Dragon that Garrett received correspondence from his sister. Almost two and a half years after he had sent his last response to Marian. He had sent countless letters to her in between, with no answers in return. It made him worry, and he could’ve sworn he’d found a grey hair the other day. He had also sent letters to Bethany asking if she’d had any word from their sister, but Bethany’s replies were always late. Although she had seen Marian, she had let him know that they only sent letters every couple of months. With a sinking heart, he realised that Marian was too busy for him now- obviously engrossed with being Kirkwall’s Champion. He had contemplated sending a letter to Anders, but he didn’t want to seem desperate, or reveal that he and his sister were drifting apart. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, and sending the letter would shatter the last dregs of hope he had for their relationship. The letter in his hand was taunting him, and he let out a shaky sigh as he opened it, preparing himself for the worst.

_Garrett,_

_It’s been a long time since I wrote to you, and I feel as though I should explain. Though I received your letters coming into Kirkwall, I never opened a single one. This was an extremely selfish thing of me to do, and I can’t imagine what sort of emotional turmoil this has put you through. Here’s the thing:_

_The letter you sent to me after the Arishok battle hurt me Garrett- it hurt me in a way I hadn’t known could be possible. You were completely dismissive, and you guilt tripped me into the next age by playing the family card. I know mother would be worried, and I knew you would go mad with worry- that’s why I was so reluctant to tell you! This was something I could not forgive easily._

_But it wasn’t fair for me to ignore you like that- and if you’d accept my apology, I’d like for us to get back in touch again. Things have gone even further south after the Arishok left. There’s no Viscount on the throne, and Meredith has taken this as an open invitation to have her Templars prowl the streets at night. Fenris is safe for now in his mansion as Aveline makes sure the guard patrols go around his area- Anders refuses to leave his clinic, but I made sure he has a key to the cellars that connect to Darktown from our estate in case he needs a quick getaway. Merrill should be fine, as well as Isabela- and Varric is so smooth he’d probably be able to talk the Templars into giving up lyrium._

_Isabela also said that she wants to deal with Castillon personally, but thanked you for the offer. She also says that she misses you and that you should meet up at some point._

_Recent events put into perspective how much of an arse I was being- Fenris’ sister had led Danarius- his former master- to him, and he was about to kill her when I had to stop him. Shit Garrett, I don’t know what I’d do if I found out you weren’t safe. You are safe, right? Please tell me you’re safe._

_I’m so sorry, brother._

_I love you,  
Marian_

Garrett’s hands shook as he re-read the letter. All this heartache over a few misplaced words years ago? A ripple of anger spread throughout his body, along with the heat of shame colouring his cheeks. He had been angry when he had written to Marian; grief, shock, and panic condensed into words. As much as he understood Marian’s anger, she had ignored him for near-on three years, never once thinking of the consequences. He let out a yell of shock when the letter in his hands burst into flames. The letter had been engulfed within seconds and as nothing more than a pile of ash within fifteen. A rough sigh followed, and he ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. A brief thought of getting a haircut passed through his mind, but he shook it off and thought back to the letter that was now nothing but ashes on the table.

“Maker be damned,” he muttered, his hands shaking as he stood to grab some paper from his room. He sat on his bed, quill in hand and ready to write, but no words could come to mind. It took him almost an hour before he could come up with a reply.

_Marian,_

_You’re right; what you did was horrific- probably one of the worst things you could have done- but I was also at fault for the way I responded to your letter. I shouldn’t have guilt tripped you like that- it was insensitive and cruel. You would have heard this if you’d opened any of my previous letters. I’m sorry to hear about Fenris’ sister; I’m glad you stepped in. I’m also glad we’re getting back in touch, as well._

_How have you been these past years? Have you been looking after yourself? How’s the rest of your group? Any big updates? More importantly, how’s Barkspawn doing? I’ll have you know I’ve now named the kittens Sister Nightingale and Ser Whiskers- if you needed any more reason to poke fun at me._

_The farm is doing well- I feel as though I have made the house too big now however. Three bedrooms and only me to fill them all. The cats have made use of them though, so I suppose it’s not all bad. I’ve been completing Chanters’ requests in the meantime- it was good to get out and about for a while; and I took extra precautions not to be caught using my magic. Has Bethany visited you recently? It’s been so long since I’ve seen her._

_Don’t worry; I’m safe for now. And I love you too, despite how sometimes you can be a colossal prig._

_Write back soon!  
Garrett_

It was with some trepidation that he sent the letter off- the bitter and selfish part of him wanted him to let Marian wait a couple of weeks for his reply, but he stamped out that impulse and watched the messenger crow fly away. His heart felt a little lighter, and he couldn’t help but feel a little sad that the letter had burst into flames. The sun was setting, casting a golden hue over the fields outside, when Garrett turned back to the table to clear up the leftover ashes. Mr Tubbins had begun pawing at them, causing a mess, but Garrett just chuckled. Over the years, the grey tabby had lost an eye fighting a fox, keeping them away from the chickens Garrett was now raising, and his ear had a habit of flipping inside out constantly. Despite this, however, he was still as playful and cuddly as he had been as a kitten. Garrett scooped him up after ridding the table of the ash, and the other cats played around his feet as he made his way outside to watch the sunset. A sense of calm washed over him as the last dregs of sunlight hit his body. Despite the worry he felt for his sister, Garrett felt at peace for the first time in a long while.

 

 

Correspondence continued as normal after that. The banter continued, but the letters brought news telling of a darker time in Kirkwall.

_The Templars are cracking down- Meredith and Orsino are at each other’s throats._

_-_

_I’m raising chickens now and named one of them after you._

-

_Anders believes he’s found a potion that can separate him from Justice, but I don’t know if it’s safe._

_-_

_Sister Nightingale had kittens this week- I had to sell them though._

_-_

_A group of blood mages kidnapped Fenris. After all I did to help them, they were going to kill him!_

_-_

_I hope he’s okay. Have you sorted your relationship out with him yet?_

_-_

_We’re both doing well. Anders lied about the potion. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m scared, Garrett._

_-_

_You’ll be fine. I love you_

-

After that, the letters stopped once more, causing Garrett to fret and worry over his sister. He sent more letters out, but never received a reply. With nothing but housework to distract himself with, Garrett found himself in town more often. It was when he was placing a new carving on the memorial that he heard the whispers.

“I heard it was a mage abomination that did it.”

“Well in any case I’m glad he did. The Chantry has become so corrupt- and it’s worse in Kirkwall!”

At the mention of Kirkwall, Garrett’s head snapped up, and he shuffled closer to the voices so as not to be caught.

“Flames! Are you barking mad! He’s a terrorist. I hope they slaughtered the bastard!”

“Mages don’t deserve to be treated the way they do! Had I had the balls to do it myself I would have!”

“Don’t make me tell the Templars, Donovan,” the first voice warned. It was then that Garrett decided to intervene, wanting to find out what happened, but also to diffuse the situation.

“What’s this about Kirkwall?” he asked cheerfully, a basket of fruit he’d bought earlier under his arm. The two people who had been arguing jumped, and the first voice spoke up.

“Some radical blew up the Chantry and Knight-Commander Meredith ordered an annulment of the Circle there. Good thing too. You can never trust mages,” he said, shaking his head. The other man, Donovan, rolled his eyes, ignoring the way Garrett had paled.

“Luckily the Champion was there to defend the mages. Even if it was a mage that did it, you can’t just order the execution of all for the actions of one!” Donovan argued. Garrett’s breathing had picked up at the mention of his sister, and his palms started to sweat.

“What was that about the Champion?” Garrett asked weakly. The first man, who was looking at his friend with more disdain shook his head.

“Well rumours are that it was one of her friends who did it. O’ course the Champion had saved Kirkwall before so they looked to her for help. The bloody witch up and left the Templars to help the mages. Guess you can’t trust anyone these days. Eh, maybe she was under the thralls of blood magic!” the first man ranted. Donovan sighed in dismay, leaving Garrett to return home, shaky and pale. He managed to open the door and place his goods on the table before collapsing onto his knees in shock. Finally all of his unanswered letters to Marian made sense.

She was dead.

No. No that couldn’t be. She had helped fight the Templars, sure, but hadn’t one of them said that no-one knew where they’d gone afterwards? Garrett clenched his fists over and over, digging his nails into his palms. Maybe she was safe and sound- travelling with her companions. He just wished he knew for certain what had happened. Surely he would have felt it if his twin were no longer in the world- but then again he hadn’t felt it when Carver or his mother had died. His stomach turned at that. The way death could happen so suddenly- the way sometimes it couldn’t even be felt by those closest to the people to them. Garrett ran to the back door and made it only a small way out before he threw up. He was unable to control his trembling, tears and snot running down his face. The taste in his mouth was foul, and he wiped at it with a compulsive manner, then moving to scratch his arms. The sun was unable to warm him, and paranoia shot through him like an arrow; the shortness of breath was returning, his thoughts scattered.

_I have to get out of here!_

Garrett stumbled back to the house, leaning on the walls for support. An inquisitive meow from his feet caught his attention, and he looked down, eyes slightly unfocused, at Mr Tubbins. There was another meow as Mr Tubbins caught Garrett’s trouser leg in his claws, also grazing the skin underneath. The small prick of pain was enough to distract him from his emotional turmoil for a small while- enough so that the thought of running away seemed like a bad one. After all, he had his animals and farm to look after. Still dazed and slightly paranoid, Garrett set to cleaning the house in a mechanical manner. Surfaces were scrubbed to the point of being worn, the metal pans had scratches in them from the metallic bristle brush, and the broom’s bristles themselves were out of shape.

By the time the lower floor was done, he moved upstairs, starting with what would have been his mother’s room. He forced the windows open to let in a breeze, which then disturbed the dust from the curtains. The whole room was stripped and remade before Garrett moved on to what was going to be Bethany’s room, which then received the same treatment as the last one. The bathroom was thoroughly cleaned, the smell of chemicals penetrating his mind as he worked diligently on making sure there was not a speck of dirt in the area. With nothing left to be done in the house, Garrett made his way outside once more, heading to the small covering where he kept his farming and gardening tools. It was only when the moon was setting that he finally collapsed into the dirt, his entire body aching, blisters on his hands and feet that had broken and started to bleed. Bruises were set into his body, and there was barely an inch where dirt didn’t cover his body.

His breathing was heavy as he lay on his back gazing up at the stars. The dark of the night was being chased away by the light of dawn, the birds chirping in the trees. With a monumental effort Garrett rose to his feet, leaving his tools where they were as he limped back towards the house. Getting into the bath required way too much effort, but as soon as his back hit the hot water, his muscles relaxed, and a sigh escaped his lips.

When he awoke the water was dirty and cold around him. Garrett shuddered and stepped out of it only to drain the bath and refill it to wash himself properly. The previous day in the garden had taken its toll on his body, and he felt the strain in all his muscles as he made his way around the house to do his chores.  The cats were all curled up on one armchair with each other, and Sister Nightingale raised her head to watch Garrett go about the kitchen to make breakfast- or what would technically count as an afternoon snack going by the position of the sun-before padding over to him and brushing up against his bare calves. Garrett started slightly but smiled gently and petted the cat. She pawed at the plate in his other hand, making Garrett chuckle.

“Right, of course you’re hungry,” he stated to his cat before walking to a small hatch in the floor that lead to a room designed to keep things cold and pulling out some leftovers that still looked okay. Sister Nightingale meowed happily and followed Garrett until he placed the large dish by the back door. After returning to grab his breakfast he sat at the scrubbed table, gazing out of the window for lack of anything better to do. In last night’s frenzy, he’d completed several day’s work, however the scattered tools caught his attention, so he decided he’d clean up any mess from his work spree.

Garrett was feeding the chickens when a crow holding a letter caught his attention. He scattered the last of the feed and placed the basket down so he could take the letter from the crow’s foot. As soon as the letter had been removed, the crow flew away, wings flapping dangerously close to Garrett’s face. Only two words were scrawled hastily, and they were almost unrecognisable.

_We’re coming._

The two words sent dread throughout Garrett before reason settled in. Templars wouldn’t announce their arrival. His second thought was Marian, but he dismissed easily. If his twin truly was on the run, she wouldn’t be as stupid to go to families place- that was too easy! He thought of Amell briefly, but she had said she was going away for a while. Confused and a little bit frustrated, Garrett stuffed the note in his tunic pocket and rescued the basket from the chickens.

The note weighed heavily on his conscience for a few weeks, and he countered that by doing as many jobs in town he could and working non-stop on the farm. Along with the paranoia came the anxiety over Marian. Every time the thought of her being dead crossed his mind, his heart stuttered in his chest and a weight dropped in his stomach. Through the stress, Garrett pushed himself, barely eating or sleeping. One evening found him lying on the sofa with no effort to move or ever get up again. So exhausted he was, that he almost forgot about the note.

Until he heard the knock at the door.

Garrett tensed and sat up slowly, his body aching and protesting. He made his way carefully to the door when it was knocked on again, grabbing his staff and hiding it as he swung the door open. The staff clattered to the floor in shock as the lantern outside flickered light onto the group at his door.

One step in, he heard her sword clatter to the ground.

Two steps and he had his arms full of Marian, holding tightly onto her, she not eager to let go either. Marian took in a deep breath, and let it out shakily, clutching tighter to her brother.

“You still smell like them,” her voice cracked, and  she shuddered, tears falling silently down her cheeks before she buried her face in Garrett’s neck. Garrett sniffed too, face engulfed in her hair. She still smelt slightly of smoke and dirt, but underneath she was still Marian.

The hug lasted longer than it should have, and when they broke away, a watery smile was on Marian’s face, and her hand cupped Garrett’s jaw.

“You finally managed to grow a beard!” she joked, voice still shaky. Garrett chuckled, and Marian joined in, the both of laughing, tears now dripping freely down their face, snot coming from their noses. All in all it was very ugly crying. When they had controlled themselves, Garrett looked  behind her to see her company. He was instantly drawn to the tallest of the lot, standing at the back and trying to merge into the shadows. His hair was limp and greasy, and there were shadows cast over his eyes. He was also dangerously thin. Marian patted his arm and drew his attention away from the man at the back.

“Garrett, these are my friends. Varric, Isabela, Merrill, Fenris, and Anders,” she gestured to everyone. Varric gave a tired salute with Isabela and Merrill waving. Fenris nodded at him, whereas the man at the back, Anders, he now knew, flinched. Despite how thrilled he was to be able to meet the healer, his eyes were instinctively drawn to the marks on Fenris’ skin. He was about to blurt out “Lyrium?!” when Marian squeezed his arm again.

“I hate to put this on you, but we’re all in a desperate need of someplace to stay,” she urged, eyes imploring. Maker, it had been too long since he’d seen them.

“Yeah, of course! Come in, all of you!” he insisted, stepping out of the way, and replacing his staff on its stand by the door as he did so. Everyone walked through, Merrill even wiping her feet, until at last Anders came through, arms wrapped around himself, eyes still locked intently on the floor. Upon the arrival of their guests, the cats had all taken shelter under the table, leaving the furniture free. Marian dumped her pack by the foot of the armchair before collapsing into it. Garrett felt slightly awkward around so many people, and his pulse picked up slightly at the crowded area.

“Everyone make yourself at home. Shoes by the door, coats on the hook and staffs go on the stand,” Garrett babbled, face heating up.

“Would anybody like some tea? Water? I think I still have some fruit jui-” thankfully, Marian swooped in to save her brother.

“I think a hot drink would be good for everyone, Garrett.” She nodded, and Garrett swept into the kitchen, shaking hands filling the kettle.

“Maker, what’s wrong with me. I’ve been into town- I should be fine with this,” he muttered to himself as he turned the stove on and waited for the water to heat up. Pulling mugs and glasses from the cupboard, Garrett strained to hear if there was any conversation going on, but the living room was dead silent. Shuddering, Garrett reached for another cupboard to pull out a large pot of hot chocolate. He didn’t usually buy such luxuries, but it had been a gift from all of the sisters of the Chantry after he had helped with repairs and healing after a particularly nasty storm earlier that year.

The whistling of the kettle made him jump and he was going to turn and get it before it was already being handed to him. The small elvhen woman smiled at him, gently touching his shoulder. At the contact, Garrett could feel the pull of a slightly darker magic.

“Merrill,” he greeted softly, smiling. She smiled in return.

“What are you making- I can’t say I’ve ever drank mud before- who knows, maybe it’s therapeutic. Have Ferelden customs changed since my clan moved to Kirkwall?” she babbled in a joyful  voice. It jarred Garrett slightly, but it was almost soothing in the way that her sentences ran into one another.

“It’s not mud, it’s hot chocolate,” he explained. Merrill’s eyes widened.

“Ooh, I’d always heard about that, but never had the chance to try any!” she gushed. Garrett finished pouring the mixtures into each cup and stirring when Merrill grabbed a few.

“Thought you could use some help, lethallin,” she told him cheerfully. Although the smile was slightly strained, Garrett was glad of the cheer and help.

“Thanks, Merrill,” he told her. She just nodded once as Garrett collected the rest of the cups. Fenris stared into the cup suspiciously, before Marian rolled her eyes.

“It’s nothing disgusting Fen, I promise you,” she joked, voice still strained. The two were sitting together, thighs touching, Marian’s foot rubbing gently against Fenris’ calf. Garrett was sure he was going to gag at the PDA, but let them be for the moment. Merrill had handed out mugs to Varric, who was taking up an armchair by the fire, Isabella, who was draped over the other one, and Fenris and Marian. Garrett passed one to Merrill, who was sat across Isabela’s lap whilst the pirate threaded her hands through the elf’s hair. The other in his hand was to go to Anders, who was still standing in the corner of the room, not meeting the eyes of anyone. As Garrett approached, he noticed the man stiffen.

“Here, hopefully this’ll warm you up,” Garrett tried in a friendly voice. There was a quick nod, and shaky hands accepted the drink from him, an almost inaudible ‘Thank you’ followed. A frown crossed Garrett’s face when he realised Anders still had his coat on- the dark glossy feathers making him almost invisible in the shadows. Further in, Merrill and Isabela were talking quietly, and Fenris, Marian and Varric were all discussing something in serious voices. Concerned for Anders, but wanting to know what was happening, Garrett left the mage to his solitude and made his way over to the sofa.

“-can’t just keep travelling like this!” Marian whispered angrily. Garrett’s eyes widened at the authoritative tone in his twin’s voice. Apparently she had become more confident and hard over the years.

“We stay in one place too long and the Templars are guaranteed to find us,” Fenris spoke lowly, eyes glancing over to Garrett for a moment.

“Last I checked, Broody, you were all for sending him to the Templars,” Varric said sweetly, but with venom dripping from his tone. Fenris cast his eyes down.

“Circumstances have… changed,” he stated vaguely. Garrett rolled his eyes and leant in.

“Not that I don’t love a good, private, chat, but last I checked, Fenris has a point. Surely the people of Kirkwall will find out where I live eventually.” He stated at normal volume.  Everyone leant back from the circle they had subconsciously assembled, and looked to Garrett.

“It’s not that I don’t want you all here- Maker knows I'd go to the Void for Marian and back- but doesn’t being here make you all sitting ducks? Family is the first place they’ll check,” Garrett explained, slightly uncomfortable with all the stares directed at him. He could also feel the brief glance from Anders at the back of his head. It had been silent for a bit too long when Garrett glanced at Marian, who looked uncomfortable.

“What?” he snapped. Marian sighed and rubbed the back of her neck.

“No-one in Kirkwall knows about you, Garrett,” she stated. The blow of the words hit him like a thunderbolt.

“No-one?” he whispered, and Varric shook his head. A sigh of relief escaped his lungs, and he found himself smiling.

“Well thank the Maker for that!” he exclaimed. Marian’s head snapped up, her expression confused.

“What? But I would’ve thought you’d have loved to be known! You were always on about glory and victory and wardens!” she asked, shocked. Garrett  shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck as well.

“Nah, not anymore. The most excitement I want is trying to stop the chickens from eating the basket.” He joked. Marian’s eyes filled with sadness, and she placed a hand on his cheek once more.

“Oh, Garrett,” she said softly. He just shrugged and pulled her hand from his cheek.

“You can all stay here as long as you want. I have spare rooms and food of course. They all have two beds in them,” Garrett babbled. There was a content sigh from the armchair, and Garrett looked over to see Varric sliding down into the armchair.

“Honestly, Junior, if your sofa is anywhere near as comfortable as this chair I’m sleeping on that tonight,” he told Garrett, who frowned slightly at the nickname.

“I don’t mind giving up my bed, honestly,” Garrett insisted, but he was just waved away. After the hot chocolate had been finished, and everyone looked on the verge of collapsing, Garrett stood, and beckoned Marian and Fenris to follow him. He lead them to what would have been his mother’s room with a large bed, and showed them where the bathroom was before leaving them to get changed. Next he set Isabela and Merrill up in what would have been Bethany and Marian’s room. Though there were two separate beds, Garrett had a feeling he’d be waking up to the two of them pushed together to make it slightly larger. He honestly didn’t mind, and only felt bad that they couldn’t share properly.

When he reached downstairs again, Anders was shifting nervously from foot to foot, almost trembling. Varric had somehow managed to find the blankets and was getting undressed in the kitchen so that he could collapse onto the sofa as soon as he got back in. Garrett approached Anders carefully, hands behind his back to stop himself from reaching out and touching the mage.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to share a room with me- but I promise I don’t snore that much,” he tried to joke. The only reply he had was a nod. Garrett sighed and began to lead the mage up the stairs and to the room that they were going to be sharing. Luckily, Garrett had never gotten rid of the second bed that would have belonged to Carver, so they both would at least be comfortable.

“The bathroom is just across the hall if you’d like to use it at any point. Feel free to use anything that’s in there as well,” he babbled, wringing his hands together nervously. There was another muttered thanks before Anders swept from the room, taking his pack into the bathroom with him, obviously to get changed into something that would be more comfortable to sleep in. During that time, Garrett did the same. He was just about to extinguish the candle when Anders returned, hair loose around his wet face, a pillow clutched in his hands. Not going to question the oddity, Garrett snuffed out the light, and with a quiet goodnight, fell asleep with the knowledge of a full house around him.

 


	4. A New Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrett and Marian clear the air, but a new threat arises. A more local one than expected.
> 
> WARNINGS FOR SLIGHT NON-CON TOWARDS THE END OF CHAPTER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who has read/reviewed and left kudos! You guys make my days, honestly! So, after quite a long wait, here's the next chapter- please take note of the new tags. I don't know why this got so angsty :(

When Garrett awoke, it was to the first light of dawn breaking through his curtains. It did not bother him however, as it was now a routine for him. As he stretched on his bed, his eyes wandered over to the other side of the room where the other bed was, only to find it empty. Garrett froze mid-stretch, eyes widening. Though he’d usually pass it off as a morning venture to the privy, with the way Anders had looked last night it seemed more as though he’d run away than walk around the house… or something worse.

With all the grace of a newborn halla, Garrett flew out of bed, almost tripping on his blankets in his rush to get out of the room. His panic was almost mind-consuming as he ran quietly down the stairs, and he ignored the way Mr. Tubbins poked his head up from where he had liberated Varric’s chest during the night. The open back door almost made Garrett’s heart stop.

‘ _Idiot! He knows Templars are more vigilant now! He’s probably the most wanted man in Thedas- why is he leaving; oh God, Marian’s going to kill me for losing him!’_

As he rushed outside, barefoot and in just his smalls and a tunic, his breath caught when he couldn’t see a sign of the other mage anywhere. Heart beating hard in his chest, eyes darting around, he missed the figure that was sat just to the left of the back door, leaning against the house.

“No, no! Maker, I need to find him!” Garrett breathed, turning around to get dressed and grab his staff before setting out. He froze once more as he saw Anders hugging his knees to his chest, forehead resting gently on them, breathing deeply. Relief flooded Garrett as he cautiously made his way toward the other man, and sat down beside him. It was awkward for a few moments as Garrett searched for something to say to the mage, but came up with nothing.

“Hey,” he eventually said weakly, also bringing his knees to his chest, but more relaxed.  Anders flinched and tensed further at the greeting, remaining silent. Apart from the sound of nature waking up around them, all was quiet. A breeze stirred the distance trees along with the small field of grain and patch of alfalfa. The chickens clucked obliviously, the sun warming their coop.

“Do you want some food or a drink?” Garrett tried again. Usually he wouldn’t eat until after he’d fed the chickens, but he figured an exception could be made this time. Again, Anders didn’t answer verbally, but shook his head slightly to deny the offer. Garrett was truly at a loss at how to communicate with the man, and his curiosity about Anders was burning him from the inside; he didn’t wish to pry, however, and it was obvious that Anders didn’t want to talk about it, so he left it alone. It was then that Garrett had a brilliant idea. He shifted to stand up, heart aching as he saw Anders flinch and tense again as though waiting for an attack- a swift judgement for what he had apparently done in Kirkwall.

As he made his way inside, he saw Varric moving around the kitchen, already getting familiar with the place.

“Mornin’ Junior,” he greeted, voice rough from a night of sleep. Garrett smiled slightly and made his way to the scrubbed table, finding what he needed under it.

“Good morning, Varric- sleep well?” he asked cheerfully, if not a little nervously. Varric chuckled, coming back to the sofa with a steaming mug in his hands.

“Like a log,” he replied, smiling.

“Say, I hate to be a bother, but do you have any ink and parchment around- I need to write some letters to my Guild to say I’ll be unavailable for a while.” Varric pressed. Garrett nodded and showed the dwarf where he kept his writing supplies in the living room cabinet.

“I’m afraid I don’t have a fancy writing desk though- just the table,” Garrett mused, smiling in return when Varric chuckled.

“No problem. Thanks for these- I’ll replace them when we go into town,” he offered as he sat down, dipping the quill into the ink and starting to write. Garrett left him alone after that, moving to go back outside once more. This time when he approached Anders, he held out his arms, and in them, was Mr Tubbins.

“This,” Garrett introduced, “is Mr Tubbins. He’s been in the family for almost eight years now. And before you make fun of his name, I know about ‘Ser Pounce-a-Lot’,” he explained, watching as Anders lifted his head from his knees to admire the fat grey Tabby. A small, weak smile twitched at his lips as he unfolded his arms.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about- Mr. Tubbins is a wonderful name,” he stated quietly, reaching out to grab the cat from Garrett, but hesitating momentarily. Mr. Tubbins must’ve sensed the hesitation as he meowed to be held by the other mage. Garrett chuckled as he watched the cat curl up in Anders’ lap, purring loudly.

“He likes you,” Garrett chuckled, and Anders’ smile turned watery.

“He’s an extremely friendly cat,” he remarked quietly, and Garrett folded his arms self-consciously across his chest, the sun warming his back.

“Wait until you meet the other two,” he quipped, now feeling slightly uncomfortable in being outside in the bare minimum of clothing. Usually it wasn’t an issue, but seeing as he had company, he felt as though some modesty wouldn’t go amiss, and it had been years since someone had seen him in less-than full clothing. On that cue, Sister Nightingale and Ser Whiskers trotted out the back door to see where their companion had gotten to. When they noticed he was with Anders, they started pawing at the mage to be held and stroked as well. At this, Garrett chuckled, which earned another small smile from Anders, and Garrett felt himself blush. He cleared his throat, heat burning the back of his neck- though whether it was from the sun or a blush he denied thinking about.

“A-anyway, I’m going to go get dressed- help yourself to anything in the kitchen- Varric’s already awake and writing, just a heads up,” Garrett stuttered, feeling as though Anders would appreciate the warning. As he moved to go, Anders grabbed his forearm gently and looked him in the eye.

“Thank you. So much,” he mumbled. Garrett’s throat constricted and he nodded.

“No problem,” he managed to get out, before Anders let go, returning his attention to the cats. When he entered the living room, Varric looked up from his place at the table, noticing the way Garrett had covered his mouth and the redness to his ears and cheeks.

“Everything alright, Junior?” Varric asked, eyes twinkling in amusement when Garrett jumped, knocking into an armchair. Garrett moved to straighten it quickly, hands shaking.

“Yep, yes, everything’s fine- why wouldn’t it be? Maker is it warm in here?” he babbled, and Varric outright laughed, whilst Garrett’s eyes pleaded for understanding.

“Sure, whatever you say, Hawke,” he replied, going back to his writing as Garrett rushed up the stairs, being careful not to make too much noise.

‘ _Maker, what’s wrong with me!_ ’ he panicked, pulling out his work clothes from his drawer and moving into the bathroom so he could have a cool washdown before he started work. The cool water did wonders for his body, and he felt calmer when he emerged from the bathroom, dried and dressed, ready for the day. He was just about to pass Marian’s room when she opened the door herself and stepped out, hair sticking all over the place, but with less dark rings around her eyes.

“Good morning!” Garrett greeted cheerfully. Marian turned a dark look to him, seeming almost zombie-like.

“Is it? Is it really? Because only bad, terrible, human beings think that any morning is good,” Marian mumbled, her words almost slurred together. Garrett smiled gently, a light feeling blossoming in his chest as he realised that after all these years his sister still wasn’t a morning person- at least not without three cups of coffee in her.

“What about elves?” he asked, teasing. Marian had the wherewithal to blush at that but just continued moving towards the bathroom anyway.

“Sleep in for as long as you like- I’ll be working on the farm,” he told her retreating back, and she waved a hand in confirmation before the door closed behind her.

Anders was still against the back of the house when Garrett had grabbed the basket of chicken feed, only now he was dozing softly, the cats curled on his lap. There was a lump in Garrett’s throat that he had to swallow hard around at the sight. Anders seemed peaceful in sleep, the constant furrow in his brow smoothed, face slack from any tension or worries. It was then that Garrett turned away, internally scolding himself for staring. The chickens clucked happily as Garrett stood amongst them, throwing the seed that they pecked at happily. After that had been finished, he moved to the well that was next to the coop, and drew up water for the crops. Ferelden had been unusually dry during summer, so Garrett had taken to watering the crops manually instead of waiting for the rainfall to help them along. By the time he had finished, it had just come up to midday. He made his way back to the house to see Anders still sleeping by the back door. His face had crumpled and he was frowning in his sleep, twitching slightly. Someone had laid him down and placed a bedroll stretched across two sticks near his head to shade him from the sun. The cats were still near him, only they were happily laying in the sunshine, ears and tails flicking lazily as they half-heartedly batted a cricket between them.

Although Garrett was happy to see Anders resting, he couldn’t help but think of how uncomfortable the ground must be. He reached out to gently shake the mage’s shoulder, yelping slightly when his wrist was caught in a tight grip. It didn’t hurt, but it was slightly uncomfortable. He looked up to see Fenris standing above him, eyes narrowed.

“Let him rest,” he said simply, and Garrett opened his mouth to protest when Fenris released his wrist and spoke again.

“He barely gets enough as it is,” he mumbled quietly. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Garrett nodded and stood up. As he did so, Fenris sat down next to Anders and placed a light hand on the mage’s ankle, igniting his tattoos. As he did so, the small frown that had appeared on Anders’ face smoothed out into a peaceful bliss. Garrett, however, was more interested in what had happened with Fenris’ tattoos.

“What-” Fenris cut him off with a sharp look, however.

“I will tell you when it is necessary for you to know. However, I would endeavour to talk to you later this evening, if you will have spare time to hear me,” Fenris offered. Perplexed, Garrett just nodded and made his way inside where it was significantly cooler. Marian was sat at the scrubbed table, intensely discussing things with Varric. A question that had been eating away at Garrett slipped out, without it even meaning to.

“What happened to Barkspawn?” he blurted. Marian and Varric looked up from their papers, Marian looking heartbroken. Instantly, Garrett feared the worst.

“He couldn’t come with us. You know how old he was when we left for Ostagar.” She gently told him. Varric then jumped in.

“He’s currently with the Guard Captain of Kirkwall- Aveline,” he continued. Garrett sighed in relief. Even though he missed his Mabari like mad, he was glad he was still alive at least.

“I guess I can understand. Travelling that much and putting him under all that stress wouldn’t be fair to him,” he mumbled, still upset that their Mabari would be missing them almost- if not more- than they missed him. Marian smiled sadly and gently touched his arm. Garrett cleared his throat, and moved his arm away.

“I’m gunna go get washed up. I also need to go into town later if anyone needs anything or wants to come with me,” he announced, moving to climb the stairs. Marian watched him go worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. As soon as he was out of earshot, she turned to Varric.

“I’m worried about him,” she admitted, running a hand through her hair. Varric raised an eyebrow and leaned forward.

“Any particular reason why? Aside from the obvious, of course,” he asked, wanting to know what had his best friend so anxious. Marian fiddled with her hands and leant towards Varric.

“He never used to be so meek or anxious. He was always outgoing, liked to be the centre of attention- Void, he and Carver used to fight about it all the time! I just don’t know what could’ve happened to make him like this,” she worried, glancing upwards to where the bathroom would be.  Varric leaned back once more with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Seven years can really change a person, Hawke.  And I can imagine he hasn’t had much company in that time. It would make sense for him to have contracted social anxiety- Maker, I’m surprised he hasn’t become agoraphobic after all these years,” Varric speculated. Marian’s eyes widened, panicked.

“Why wouldn’t he seek out company? It’s a small village- no one would turn him in to the Templars, would they? He helped rebuild the blighted village!” she implored, waving her hand for emphasis. Varric shrugged slightly.

“It still wouldn’t have been easy on him, Marian. I mean, sure, he didn’t have to fight an Arishok, or keep a city from crumbling into the sea- but living with the fear of magic? Not sure if one day he’ll be turned in for the slightest thing? Not to mention the only contact with family was through letters- though that was hardly your fault.

“All I’m saying is, if there’s anything I’ve learned during all my years in this world, it’s that family can mean everything to a person, and sometimes it’s the hardest thing to ask for,” Varric told her, eyes drifting slightly, as though staring at something that wasn’t there; instantly she knew he was thinking about Bartrand, and his ill-timed fate. She seemed to mellow at that, and shame coloured her features.

“I was an absolute bitch to him those years. His letters kept coming, but I couldn’t open them- I wouldn’t. All that time he was trying to reach out to me and I-” at that point she cut herself of with a light sob, tears dripping down her face. Varric focused back on her, and placed a hand over hers.

“You shouldn’t be telling me this, Marian,” he told her gently. She sniffed and nodded, wiping a hand across her eyes.

“Thanks Varric- you’re right. I’ll go talk to him,” she decided, standing from the table as Isabela and Merrill came down the stairs, hair still a mess from where they had been sleeping. Merrill took one look at Marian and walked towards her, arms outstretched.

“Oh, Lethallan,” she cooed, bringing Marian in for a hug. She accepted it, squeezing tightly, whilst Isabela rubbed her arm gently.

“Go sort yourself out, love,” she chided her softly. Marian smiled as she broke away and made her way up the stairs and to her brother’s room to wait for him to come in. She only had to wait for a few minutes before Garrett came in, only a towel around his waist. When he saw Marian sitting on the bed, he jumped, clutching his towel tighter.

“Andraste’s knickers, Marian- you scared the Void out of me!” he gasped. Marian tried for a smile, but it fell from her face, and she stared at her hands. Sensing something was wrong, Garrett cleared his throat and sat down next to her, his hair still dripping slightly. The silence was deafening, and Garrett was itching to break it, however he knew that whatever it was that Marian wanted to say, she needed to start it herself. His patience paid off when Marian grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly.

“I never fully apologised for ignoring your letters,” she started quietly. Garrett swallowed at that- he wanted to say something, but he didn’t want to interrupt his sister.

“It was a truly horrific act on my part, and even though I was hurt by your words, you didn’t deserve that. I always thought about how difficult it was for me, how awful I had it. I thought you had it easy- that you were having a fun time on your farm, with your cats; enjoying a life you never could have as an apostate,” she continued, swallowing around a lump in her throat. At this, Garrett balked.

“Marian- you’ve got to be joking, right? You- you had to watch Carver and Mother _die_. You were sold into a year of servitude just so you could survive, had an entire city relying on you for every damn thing- _you_ almost died fighting the bloody Arishok! There’s no way to say you had it easy. Both our lives sucked- and that’s putting it mildly!” he exclaimed, wanting to comfort his sister. She laughed softly, using her free hand to wipe her tears away.

“That still doesn’t excuse the way I behaved. It was petty, childish, and cruel. You- you could’ve been caught by the Templars and I would’ve never known about it. One day your letters would have stopped coming and I probably wouldn’t have put aside my pride to see why. I would have assumed you were ignoring me as I was you.” She took a deep, shaky breath and looked her brother in the eyes.

“That _terrifies_ me, Garrett. That I would actually _do_ something like that! You, Bethany, the twins- you’re the only family I have left- and I don’t want to lose that,” she admitted, hanging her head in shame. Garrett’s heart was thudding in his chest, and he was having trouble breathing.

“Marian,” he croaked. She looked up to see him crying as well.

“I’m so sorry, Marian. I- I was going to do it. I was going to turn myself in, but I couldn’t. I just-” he choked slightly, and Marian’s eyes widened before she pulled him in for a crushing hug. Garrett buried his face into the crook of her neck, silently sobbing while she held him, still shell-shocked at the admission.

“I’m so sorry, Garrett. So Maker damned sorry. I can’t apologise enough for what I put you through, and I can’t ever expect you to forgive me,” she whispered, her voice broken. Garrett sniffed and pulled back, hiccupping; he took her face in his hands.

“You’re here now- that’s all I ask.”

* * *

 

It was early afternoon when Anders finally awoke from his nap, the cats still surrounding him. There was a gentle pressure on his leg along with the gentle scent of lyrium, and his head was blessedly silent. Carefully, Anders sat up, the weight vanishing from his leg, but the silence still remaining.

“You were out for quite a while,” came the deep voice from beside him. Anders yawned and rubbed his eyes, feeling more rested than he had last night. Despite the comfort of being in an actual bed, he hadn’t had much rest. Justice was raging inside his head, urging him to be more proactive within the mage rebellion. The spirit didn’t approve of the fact that Anders had fled from Kirkwall and was currently on the run; they wanted to be at the forefront of it all, making sure that justice was being served to the Templars- making sure the mages had their freedom. It had made sleeping very difficult. When they had been travelling to Ferelden, it was only Fenris who could silence the spirit, making sure his lyrium was distracting enough so that Anders could finally rest. Last night had been terrible for Anders; the dark had been almost suffocating, and it was only because of Garrett’s gentle snores that he could remember that he wasn’t in solitary or the Deep Roads. Justice had also not been silenced, so the spirit had been hounding Anders until the early hours of the morning, urging him to flee the house and travel back to Kirkwall.

“I didn’t sleep well last night,” Anders admitted, petting the cats that were snoozing in the sunlight. Fenris just hummed in return before standing.

“Marian and her brother will be going into town soon- I’ll also be going with them. It is up to you whether you wish to remain here or come with us,” he stated as he walked back inside the house. Anders' chest constricted at the thought of going into a public place in broad daylight, but he fought it away, also standing. He swayed slightly on the spot but caught himself on the side of the house and entered through the back door. Varric was sat at the table playing Wicked Grace with Isabela and Merrill, Fenris and Marian sat together on the sofa, heads bent close together and muttering, whilst Garrett was in the kitchen, preparing a light meal for luncheon. A pang of hunger hit him, but it was then silenced by Justice, causing Anders to frown. He was still exhausted, and no Fade spirit was going to stop him from eating now that there was no impending crisis.

‘ ** _There is always a crisis. You sit and hide while your fellow mages fight for their lives!_** _’_ Justice boomed in his head. Anders winced and wrapped his arms around his stomach, no longer hungry for a different reason. Guilt was eating away at him, making anything else almost impossible. Why should he be free when he’d killed countless innocents to achieve his goal?

 That wasn’t justice.

Anders shuddered at the implications, arms tightening around himself as he stood by the back door.

“Cold?” Anders jumped at the voice and looked up to see Garrett holding a plate out to him. The man’s eyes were red-rimmed, and his face slightly splotchy. Anders ignored his own feelings and took the plate that was offered to him- if only out of politeness- and nodded in answer to the question, not trusting himself to blurt out all he was feeling. Garrett frowned and looked around, wiping a hand down his face.

“I can go see if I have a fur jacket anywhere if you’d like? Are you coming down with a summer fever? Can healers even get sick? Is it sunstroke? I told Fenris you shouldn’t have napped outside!” he babbled, not touching his food as he did so. A tiny smile appeared at being worried over, which then fell into a grimace.

“I’m honestly fine, Garrett. Thank you anyway,” he mumbled, and Garrett stopped babbling, mouth snapping shut.

“Right. Right, okay.” He stated as he started picking from his plate, an awkward silence settling between the two of them. The rest of the group were chatting almost cheerfully amongst themselves, a bubbly laugh from Merrill prompting one from Isabela, and a chuckle from Varric.

“Are you going to come into town with us later?” Garrett inquired lightly, trying to make the tension go away. Anders nibbled at his food, swallowing around a dry throat.

“I think it’ best if I stay away from public places for a while,” he muttered, not meeting Garrett’s eyes. Garrett himself was itching to ask what had happened in Kirkwall- to know what was true and what was just rumours. The fact that Marian was on the run and that Anders didn’t want to go out in public was enough to have him believing the theory he’d heard the two people talking about in the town weeks ago. Instead he just nodded in acceptance and continued eating his lunch. Ten minutes later, after everyone had finished, Garrett called the cats inside as he made ready to go into town. Everyone apart from Anders had wanted to go, and although he didn’t feel right leaving Anders alone in the house, the trip was becoming unavoidable as food was running low along with basic essentials. Garrett had also suggested everyone should buy new clothes; as much as the armour was effective, it would make them stick out like a sore thumb if they were to remain in the village- or even if they were travelling. Garrett would have offered to share his, but they were too large on everyone else to have fit properly; however, he did insist that any spiky armour was not worn, and weapons were not to be taken into the town either. It was this insistence that sparked the most complaints. Fenris outright refused to leave his sword behind, and Varric looked faint at the idea of not having Bianca with him. Isabela had placed four daggers onto the table, but a raised eyebrow from Marian had her removing three more from places that really shouldn’t have been able to hold them. Merrill was more than obliging, however, but she did insist that she carry a tiny dagger on her belt- a gift from one of her clan mates a long time ago.

The argument went on for about another ten minutes before Garrett eventually gave up with an exasperated huff, storming out of the front door, a basket of tradable goods in his hand.

“Do whatever you want! I officially don’t care anymore! I’m going to miss all the good trades if we don’t hurry!” he yelled, walking at such a fast pace the others had to jog to catch up with him.

As they arrived in town, the group received some strange looks, but as soon as Garrett introduced them as distant family to those who asked, the suspicion was replaced with smiles. He moved around the market with practiced ease, and Marian watched him as he traded; even though he seemed to be confident however, Marian noticed the tightness in his features, and the way he stiffened slightly when two Templars walked past. She drew closer to him, placing a calming hand on his arm as he traded with more and more people.

Somewhere between buying food and trading for cloth, Marian and Garrett visited the town’s memorial together. They were silent as they both paid their respects to Carver, Marian’s face screwing up with the effort not to cry any more than she had that day. Eventually she let out a shuddering breath and placed her hand atop the stone sculpture.

“I miss you,” she whispered, before turning away and leaning into Garrett for comfort. He held her gently, placing a soft kiss into her hair, before leading her away from the memorial.

By the time their visit to the market had finished, everyone was exhausted. Marian had spent a substantial amount of coin on clothes for everyone, even insisting to pay for most of Garrett’s goods. He politely declined, saying that he’d made a living these past years without a problem, and that he could do it now. With their pockets considerably lighter, they set off on the path back home, only for Garrett to groan when he realised he had forgotten to buy chicken feed.

“You guys go on ahead; I’ll meet you back at the house,” he told them. Marian was reluctant to go, but Fenris’ hand on her arm stopped her. She nodded slightly.

“Stay safe,” she told him, and Garrett nodded in return. Marian turned back around, then lacing her fingers with Fenris’ as they continued on the trail back to the house. Garrett took a deep breath, heading back towards town, hoping to catch the farmer he usually traded with for the chicken feed. The town was packing up for the evening, most of the stalls already empty of goods and traders; the sun was setting, casting a red glow over the town, and the nightly chill was setting in, cooling the sweat that had accumulated throughout the hot day. It seemed luck was not on his side, however, as when he approached the stall, it was empty. Garrett let out a disappointed sigh, and as he turned away to follow the others home and hopefully catch up with them, a gauntleted hand roughly grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to face the perpetrator.

His breath caught in his throat as a flaming sword engraved onto bright armour found his sight. His eyes darted up to meet the Templar’s, widening as he didn’t recognise him.

“That was some strange company you brought to the market today,” the Templar sneered. Garrett’s heart was hammering away in his chest, beating so fast he thought it would explode. He swallowed once, trying to calm himself.

“They’re family from out of town,” he managed in a level voice, not liking the way the grip tightened on his shoulder. The Templar smiled condescendingly.

“Even the dwarf and the elves?” he pressed. At that, Garrett shook his head, channelling a charm he hadn’t used since his Ostagar days. He found himself returning the smile.

“I can hardly judge who my family takes to bed- especially when I find myself so enthralled by the forbidden love,” he purred with fake enthusiasm, internally screaming at the unwanted touch that had softened on his shoulder, the hand then moving to his neck- thumb stroking slightly. It was only for a moment, however, as he was roughly pulled forward, the Templar breathing against his ear.

“Don’t think for a moment I’m not watching you. You may have the other people of this village fooled- but I won’t be as easily played.” He hissed, biting Garrett’s earlobe harshly, ignoring the pained cry that he had caused. The Templar seemed to pause at that, moving his mouth to Garrett’s neck and inhaling deeply. Garrett shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut as he was bitten there too, but tensed when the Templar’s free hand made his way down his chest, hovering above the laces on his trousers.

“In this village, we go by my rules,” The Templar growled, then shoved him away, turning on the spot and making his way towards the Chantry, leaving Garrett shaking on the spot, feeling faint and terrified. As the sun finally dipped below the horizon, Garrett set off at a brisk walk back towards the farm, feeling watched every step of the way.

As soon as the house was in sight, Garrett let out a sigh of relief, his form relaxing slightly as he approached the front door. He pushed it open to find everyone sat around the table playing Wicked Grace- even Anders had been convinced to sit in with them, even if he was not playing. Marian had her back to the door, but turned around when she heard him enter. There was a small smile on her lips when she saw him.

“Did you get the chicken feed?” she asked, and everyone else but Anders turned to watch him as he placed the day’s shopping on the side in the kitchen.

“No. He’d left.” He replied shortly, his skin itching at the stares that were directed at him. Marian frowned and stood from her chair, making her way toward him.

“Garrett, are you okay? You’re pale and shaking. Did something happen?” she asked gently. At this, Anders did look up.

“I’m fine, Marian!” he exclaimed, voice raised and clipped. Marian withdrew the hand she had reached towards him, looking hurt.

“Garrett?” she asked.

“What part of ‘fine’ don’t you understand?!” he snapped, panicking. His sister’s eyes widened at the yell, and she winced as he shoved past her, storming to the stairs and up them.

“I’m going to bed!” he called down, voice almost breaking. Eyes wide in disbelief, Marian made to follow, calling after him.

“Garrett!” she yelled, only stopping at the bottom stair when she heard his door slam violently. The cheer that had settled in from the game of Wicked Grace had vanished, leaving an awkward silence. Dejected, Marian hunched her shoulders, making her way up the stairs slowly.

“It’s best I retire too,” she mumbled, not seeing the worried looks cast between everyone else. When she had made her way upstairs, Merrill turned to the group, biting her thumbnail.

“I always thought they’d be happy to see each other again. She had so many good words about him,” she worried. Isabela smiled sadly and took Merrill’s hand away from her mouth, holding it in her own.

“They’ve got a lot to work through, kitten. You can’t be away from someone for years without it being awkward when you reunite,” she comforted. Merrill nodded sadly, taking comfort in Isabela.

“I should see if she’s okay,” Fenris mumbled, standing from his seat next to Anders. The mage stood at the same time.

“If he is sick, I should probably do something about it,” he explained, ignoring the raised eyebrows from the rest of the company. Even though he was still grieving over Kirkwall, Anders couldn’t resist his Healer’s instinct to reach out to those in need; and Garrett was definitely in need. Anders waved Fenris in front of him and followed him up the stairs, nervous about approaching Garrett in his room when he so clearly desired to be alone. His instinct to heal overthrew any doubts he was having about giving Garrett space however, and he pushed the door open.

Garrett had slammed the door shut on an instinct, venting the frustration he felt at himself. He should never have gone to town- shouldn’t have tried to flirt as a distraction. And now? Maker what was going to happen now? He had no doubt the Templar would make good on his promise- he’d seen his kind before; the hatred of mages, the suspicion over his every motive- being watched with eagle eyes. His breathing sped up, and he knew he was on the verge of a panic attack, something he desperately wished to avoid. He collapsed onto his bed, lacing his hands behind his neck and leaning forward, trying to control his breathing. It was useless however, as his breaths came out in sharp pants and wheezes. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block everything out, and he was so far gone, he didn’t even hear his bedroom door open. He did, however, feel a calloused hand gently touch his elbow, making him flinch and snap away from the contact.

Anders’ eyes had widened when he saw Garrett in the midst of a panic attack. Every doubt about leaving the man alone left his body as he gently closed the door and raced towards him, kneeling down so he was on his level. He gently touched Garrett’s elbow, and a lump formed in his throat as he watched Garrett flinch away from the touch.

“Garrett. Garrett look at me,” Anders told him, gentle but firm. Garrett shook his head slightly, moving his hands from his neck to his hair, grasping at it and pulling slightly. Taking in a deep breath, Anders turned to his magic- magic he’d avoided using since Kirkwall. He let a healing aura engulf the area, trying to soothe the man in front of him. Garrett relaxed slightly, but his breathing was still irregular, and he looked as though he were about to faint. Anders tried again, not touching him this time.

“Garrett, please. Open your eyes and look at me. I’m trying to help,” he soothed, almost letting out a sigh of relief when the other man obliged, eye open and panicked, darting around the room. Anders gently touched his wrist to draw his attention to him.

“You’re alright. Just keep your eyes on me,” he whispered, meeting Garrett’s gaze with his own.

“Breathe with me, Garrett. In and out, nice and slowly,” he ordered kindly, exaggerating his calm breathing, making sure that it was being followed. They stayed like that for several minutes, Garrett mimicking Anders’ breathing pattern, until he let out a shuddering breath, slumping over, head bent down. Anders rubbed his arm soothingly, wincing when he felt how cold the other was.

“Are you okay now?” he asked, earning a nod in return. Anders frowned, not moving his hand.

“Would you like to talk about it?” he offered quietly, which prompted a shake of his head. Anders swallowed around the lump in his throat, his face suddenly paling. He’d seen this sort of behaviour before at the Circle- had been through it himself. He schooled his features, however, and stood from where he was kneeling.

“If you need me for anything at all, you know where I am,” he stated, forcing his tone to stay calm.

“Thank you,” Garrett croaked, and Anders nodded in return.

“It’s no problem. Now you should rest- healer’s orders. No arguing,” he tried for a joke, but it felt wrong in his mouth, so he turned away, getting ready for bed at the same time as Garrett.

As Garrett snuffed out the candlelight, Anders’ breath hitched.

‘ ** _This is what we fight for, Anders. So that mages do not have to go through this!’_** Justice pressed. Anders turned onto his side.

_‘I know.’_

_‘ **We cannot stay here. We must move on**.’ _

_‘I know.’_

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> A note on Fenris and Anders' relationship:
> 
> Personally, I feel that after seven years of following Hawke around, the two would at least have come to some sort of truce with one another. I am planning on writing a side-fic that explores the nature of their relationship in this universe, so that there's more background behind it, and it doesn't seem too OOC for each other.
> 
> (tfw you're too busy being Fenris/Anders trash to be Hawke/Anders trash)


End file.
